Between You & Me
by Savannah O'Ryan
Summary: The connection was there, hidden amongst moments and memories. They could read each other with a glance; knew each other better than anyone could. Then he fell in love with her and their whole world fell apart. AU
1. Prologue

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Prologue**

"_There she goes; there she goes again.  
Pulsing through my veins; And I just can't contain this feeling that remains." _

–_Six Pence None The Richer_

* * *

It was a ritual. A common practice. The daily routine. It went unquestioned and opinions remained unheard. Even the teachers would be seen glancing at the clock subconsciously some mornings, never giving a second thought to the occurrence in the halls of East High. It was as expected as the warning bell or winning the basketball championships or the leads in the musicals. It was as predicable as the sun rising.

Five minutes before the warning bell for homeroom, the conversation in the corridors would quiet and the atmosphere would shift. The distinct sound of high heels and laughter would filter along the throngs of students before the front doors of the school were pushed open and sun would illuminate the two familiar figures. The students would rush to clear their path, so that unhindered, they could walk the tiled floor to their lockers arm in arm, laughing over something unknown. On some days, two other girls would be with them or trailing behind, but on most mornings it was just the two who caused the crowds to part as though it was the red sea.

The taller of the two, with her wavy golden locks and heavily lashed brown eyes, commanded attention with the practiced posture and grace of a dancer who had spent years making memorable entrances. On this day, she is wearing a light denim skirt that barely reaches a length deemed appropriate and the pink heeled sandals accentuate her long legs. The pink, rhinestone studded tank top falls over her curves and is enough to cause the boys to steady themselves against the wall but keeps the envious girls from putting cruel names to her style. The white monogrammed tote bag that is swung over her left shoulder bounces as she leans to whisper into her companion's ear. A giggle spills out and attention is shifted from the blonde to the brunette beside her.

Long dark tangles of hair flow over one sun-kissed shoulder, reminding the watcher that the Hispanic blood is not a trait possessed by the first girl. The dark lined eyes are the color of walnut stain and look like pools of ink. She is smaller than her friend, her curves less defined and her heels doing little to compete with height. The shortened hem of her dark blue dress draws the eyes of the male students up from her matching heels. The black bag carelessly hitched on her shoulder is a reminder that she is not on a Parisian runway. Laughing at the whispered joke, she lets her eyes roam the hall until they settle on the boy leaning casually against a locker.

His smile is genuine and not like the ones worn by those left swooning in their wake. His hair tells her that he has yet to break the habit of constantly running his hands through it and his blue eyes are the color of the sapphires in her studded earrings. They pierce through her from feet away, peeling away the layers and leaving her vulnerable in a way that few have the privilege of doing. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his jeans and his feet are crossed casually at the ankle. This, too, is part of the daily routine. The prize at the end of the gauntlet. When the girls reach him, the brunette receiving a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek from him before he leans down to kiss the blonde on the lips, savouring her raspberry lipgloss, it signals the end of the spectacle and the students of East High return to where they were before the Montez-Evans sisters arrived.

~*~

Gabriella Montez, at the age of six, would have told anyone who asked that Sharpay Evans was trouble. From the moment her mother escorted her to the elaborate swing set in the Evans' backyard and told her be nice, Gabriella had known that Sharpay would be at the root of any future punishments and reprimands. Seeing the little blonde girl clamber over the play set, with her twin brother following at a resigned and practiced pace, Gabriella felt herself drawn to her new playmate. When she found herself seated on a hard wooden stool in the corner of the Evans' dining room two hours later, with Sharpay in a similar position on the other side of the room, Gabriella's predictions were confirmed. Sharpay was trouble, and after several visits and coinciding lectures on behaviour, Gabriella joined in her escapades with enthusiasm.

At the age of eight, dressed in identical green flower girl dresses chosen by Gabriella's mother, Sharpay and Gabriella's only focus was on the intricate designs iced onto the massive wedding cake in the middle of the dining area of the reception hall. Fifteen minutes later, following Gabriella's suggestion to Ryan that no one would notice if he ate one of the many spun-sugar flowers and Sharpay's helpful prompting, the two girls were presented to their parents covered in icing. Without asking for an explanation, Maria Montez-now-Evans requested that the wedding planner bring out the back-up cake. Sharing a gaze with her new husband, Maria tried to convey her suspicions that the girls' mishaps were just the beginning of the trouble to come.

Sharpay had never had a sister. She had Ryan, sure, but it wasn't quite the same and despite her stubborn will, she knew that her father was right when he reminded her that one day Ryan would not want to play with her dollhouse or join her for a tea party. When Gabriella and her mother moved in after the wedding, Sharpay suddenly had a sister. Their parents had expected some turbulence given that Gabriella was not just an only child, but Sharpay was a spoiled rotten princess. Instead, miraculously, they fit together perfectly. Unlike Ryan, who was relieved to be free to do what he really wanted (like play pirate ship on the play set outside instead of pouring tea for Ken), Gabriella's wilfulness matched Sharpay's. After a week of door slamming and petulant sulking, the two settled into a pattern. If Sharpay wanted to do something and Gabriella didn't, she either tried to bribe her into it or faced the prospect of Gabriella cutting a chunk out of her hair while she slept. Gabriella subsequently learned that if she broke any of Sharpay's Barbie shoes, Sharpay would scribble crayon designs over the pages of her books. It was a relationship no one else could understand or fathom.

By the time the Montez-Evans children reached East Middle School, any child within a fifty-mile radius of the playground knew that to mess with one sibling was to mess with the other two as well. When Gabriella gave Chad Danforth a black eye for bullying Ryan, she set a precedent and made new friends. Although it took a few months for Chad to come around and stop referring to them as the Devil Children, Troy Bolton had found the whole incident rather hilarious and immediately latched onto Gabriella. Aside from Sharpay and Ryan, Troy became her best friend. When Chad had recovered from being beaten by a girl and Sharpay had recovered from Troy's sick prank of slipping a frog in her ballet slippers, the group of them became inseparable.

High school proved to be Sharpay and Gabriella's crowning glory. Rich, fun and friendly, they attracted everyone like bees to honey. When Chad declared his undying love for Taylor McKessie in the ninth grade, Gabriella made it her mission to corrupt the honours student and have her join the dark side. It took her six weeks and Chad had never shown gratitude in such a way as he did then. In the tenth grade, during second semester, Kelsi Nielsen joined the group when Sharpay learned that the other girl was too shy to join the drama club. Sharpay made some phonecalls, did some campaigning and had herself and Ryan named co-presidents of the club. The next week Kelsi was composing the spring musical. During exams that spring, Zeke Baylor found that way to a Montez-Evans' heart and the ensuing popularity was chocolate chip cookies. When he made the basketball team with Chad and Troy, he found himself at the heart of East High's hierarchy. Sharpay recruited Jason Cross after seeing his photography skills with still shots of his basketball teammates. She declared him her personal photographer and after that, pictures of Sharpay and Gabriella were all over school. Despite their superficial cover, the gang of them remained steadily loyal to one another.

With their senior year just beginning, Gabriella could sense something shifting within their dynamic. She had felt it at the beginning of the summer when Troy and Sharpay had become a couple and she felt it again as she entered the front doors of East High on that day in September and made the customary trip to Troy's locker where she hugged her best friend and watched him kiss her sister. It was the way he watched her approach and the way his smile slipped when Sharpay giggled and whispered in Gabriella's ear. It was the way the air crackled between them while Sharpay remained obliviously happy as she grabbed her books and looped her arm through Troy's before grabbing Gabriella's hand with her free one and towing both of them towards homeroom.

Troy dropped his gaze but not before Gabriella caught a hint of something forbidden in his glace. It went against the best friend code and pact between sisters. It went against everything she knew. Suddenly it seemed like a canyon had appeared between her and her sister, her and her best friend; as wide as the one in Arizona that she and Sharpay had gushed over when they were ten. The heat of Troy's piercing eyes dissipated and Gabriella's heart returned to its normal rhythm.

Troy had chosen Sharpay and no matter what happened to them now or in the future, that choice made Gabriella forever off limits. Between them would always be Sharpay who, as Gabriella watched, smiled cheerfully at her boyfriend with an emotion that Gabriella knew. Love. Her sister was in love with him and there was nothing that Gabriella would consider doing that could possibly distroy her heart. Sharpay always came first. Before their friends, before the guys they dated, loyalty to each other was always first.


	2. Chapter One

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter One**

**

* * *

**

Every time he saw her, Troy Bolton felt like the air was sucked from the room. He didn't understand how everyone else could continue to breathe in her presence. She was a goddess and they her subjects, parting the hallways as an offering for her benevolence, while he was her slave who would rather be imprisoned at her feet than free to be miles away. Each time she turned her smile in his direction, he was re minded that his memory and dreams never did her justice. She was perfect. She was flawless. Idyllic. Beautiful. Exquisite. Troy would gladly read every page of the dictionary to prove just how many words could be used to describe her.

She was brilliant. She had most likely already read the dictionary that held the definition of who she was for Troy, but she wasn't his. That too, his longing to possess her, had an unknown amount of words to describe it. Impossible. Never. Inconceivable. Fractured. He had broken them without words, without intention, without explanation. Yet, she knew. She had always been able to read him the way she could read Plato's Republic in its original language. He was an open book, his emotions on view for her to dissect, but she didn't like the answers.

He had made a mistake. In a moment of impulsivity, of recklessness, of ignorance, Troy had shattered their future into prisms of glass that reflected his flaws a hundred times over. She had been with someone else, an innocent date that she had accepted because Troy was a coward who refused to tell her how he felt. He should have waited for it to end and then told her. He should have climbed to the balcony by her room and told her that he was in love with her. That they were meant to be. Instead, he had found comfort in the only person who could make the situation go from heartbreaking to suicidal. He knew what his best friend said. He knew what _she_ said. Deep down, beneath his denial, he knew that it was wrong.

He had preyed on Sharpay's feelings, ignoring his conscience as it told him that he could never go back because it would tear the fabric of their lives even further, he had let her comfort him. She had drawn him in, without knowing the reason for his anger and outrage at what _she_ had done, and he had let her. The next morning, he had faced the consequences. He had seen the look of horror on her face when she found them in Sharpay's room. He had seen the unspoken disappointment on Chad's face as he paced the basketball court, missing every shot and knowing why. Guilt ate at him each time she veiled her eyes in Sharpay's presence, using her sister's happiness to hide her pain.

He had done that. He had cut the ties and severed their possibilities. He had ruined them. People said it all the time when they thought he wouldn't hear or when they thought it would do him to good to know the public opinion. He couldn't have her now and if he broke Sharpay's heart, he would lose them both beyond the painful existence they held with fragile balance. So he hugged her and kissed Sharpay, but he kissed Sharpay and wanted her. He held hands with his girlfriend but followed her sister with eyes that burned with fire. He had Sharpay but was damn well in love with Gabriella. Troy was drowning and she was the lifeline that was just out of reach.

* * *

Troy hated his third period math class. He despised the equations on the board that blurred into senseless formulas he could never solve. He despised the fact that his seat was near the front of the room where his boredom was seen by everyone. He despised the mountains of homework each night that cut into the rest of his life and he despised the little, scrawny, balding man who taught the class and went by the ridiculous name of Marvin Hoffle. All of those things aside, his hatred was currently focused on the red 48percent that was circled at the top of the review test from the first week of classes. Damn, he hated math.

A small, delicate hand reached over his arm and plucked the test from his own grip. Turning his head, he watched as wide brown eyes darkened and a crease appeared between the two perfectly plucked and shaped eyebrows. Gabriella slid her gaze to her own test, with its perfect score, and then back as she compared the two. Troy felt his heartbeat speed up as he waited, his calloused hands beating a rhythm on the desk as Gabriella caught her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration.

"He miscounted by three points," she told him quietly, barely audible as the class chatted around them. "You should point it out to him."

"Like that will solve my problem," Troy muttered darkly, narrowing his eyes at the squirrely teacher seated behind the mahogany desk.

"I don't understand," Gabriella told him, lifting her eyes to meet his for a split second before focusing on a point behind his head. He hated when she avoided eye contact with him. It physically hurt to know she couldn't look him in the eye anymore. "You know this stuff. Or you did when we studied it last year. What happened?"

"I don't know," Troy answered sharply, wincing at how she stiffened and looked back at her test. "This is only the second week of school and you spent months cramming it into my brain. I just need to get back into it. Refresh my memory."

"I don't even understand why you're taking it," she retorted hotly as the bell rang and she shoved the test unceremoniously into her bag. "Last year you complained about it constantly and repeatedly reminded me that one doesn't require math to pursue a journalism career or join the NBA. If you don't need it, why torture yourself?" She raised an eyebrow at him in question as they waited outside the door for their friends in the classroom next to them.

"It's good to diversify your transcript in case something changes," Troy told her, shoving his hands in his pockets and praying for Chad to get his ass out of Spanish and rescue them from the unspoken currents of emotion that was pressing in from all sides.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice noncommittal and disbelieving. She was telling him that she knew it was a lie. Troy resisted scoffing and he frantically searched the crowd for someone, anyone who could interrupt their conversation before he lost all control.

"What do you want me to say, Gabriella? That I'm in the class because it will teach me to work harder or broaden my horizons? Do you want me to tell you what I told the guidance counsellor in order to convince her to let me in the class?" Troy hissed under his breath, clenching his teeth and ignoring the smiles that other students sent their way. "Do you want me to say that I can't go all day, everyday, without seeing you for more than lunch period? Do you want me to tell you that this was the only advanced placement class that we could possibly share and that I am in that hellhole so that I can see you for just a few minutes more without her around? What do you want from me?" His fists were clenched but he only noticed when she let her eyes fall and then slowly brought her gaze back up to his face, forcing him to follow her line of sight. Uncurling his fingers, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against a locker.

"I want you to stop making _her_ sound like a burden. She loves you and the least you can do is respect it like I do," she ground out, her dark flashing with resentment and humiliation at what she had lost, "And I want you to have the guts to call me something other than Gabriella."

"Gabriella-," his voice broke on her name and his throat refused to emit any other name he had called her by the past. He shouldn't have that privilege. She shouldn't give it to him.

"Save it, Troy. Let me know if you want help with the next test." She pulled up the strap of her dress that was falling off her shoulder and spun away from the lockers, away from him and away from the familiar head of sunshine blond hair that was weaving through the crowd of students.

Troy watched her go, guilt eating his soul to see the pain in her eyes as she looked behind him before leaving. Turning, he took a breath and pulled himself together a moment before his girlfriend latched onto his arm. He smiled softly at her, hating that he couldn't feel for her what she felt for him. He wondered if she suspected that it was all an act. A movie scene that was so well played that it hid the frayed connections between the actors off-set. He hated hurting both of them, even if one was shouldering the pain for herself and her sister. He hated what he had done.

* * *

She hated the way her hand fit perfectly in his. She hated the way her body craved his touch. His embrace was like heroin and she would push away any promise she had made to herself to get it. She hated the way her fingers itched to comb through his hair or that when she closed her eyes, she could still see the piercing blue of his eyes. She hated that she couldn't let go of him. She hated that every day she woke up and veiled her unhappiness from her sister. She had never been jealous of Sharpay, but Gabriella hated that she wanted the one thing her sister cherished the most. She wanted to hate them both but she found it to be impossible.

A heavy body dropped onto the bench beside her and a mocha coloured leg pressed against hers to gain attention. Sighing, she looked up to see the worried look on Chad's face as his fingers brushed away the tears that had left tracks on her cheeks. Ducking her head, she let the curtain of hair separate him from view as she curled and uncurled the bare toes stretched out in front of her.

"You're killing me, Ella," he said softly, although there was no one around to hear them on the rooftop of East High. "You can't keep doing this or it's going to break you."

"I'm already broken and it's better this way," she replied, her voice choking on the words.

"For who? Because I don't see how this is doing anyone any good. She's not stupid. Energetic and idealistic? Yes, but not stupid. She is going to notice pretty soon that her boyfriend is afraid to touch her and that her sister can barely stand to be in the same room with them." Chad scratched his bushy hair and watched as she smoothed the nail polish on her fingers. "Brie, if you`re not going to tell her than you need to let go."

"I`ve tried!" she insisted, "You don`t understand how unbelievably hard I have tried. It doesn`t work. I spent the summer in Oregon with my dad. I changed all my classes so that I`m not in any with him except math which I couldn`t get out of. I am trying, Chad, but I can`t. He`s my best friend. He`s my best friend and as much as I want to hate him because that would be the easy thing to do, I can`t."

"You're not expected to give up everything for Pay," Chad said, his voice soft but serious.

"It's all about Pay!" she cried, "Don't you get it? She doesn't deserve this. He's one of her best friends too and this would kill her."

"And what about you, Ella?" Chad gripped her forearms tightly and forced her to face him. "You are crumbling and soon, not even Sharpay will be blind to it. You are allowed to be happy. You are allowed to love him. You are allowed to come in first."

"I will not destroy her," Gabriella whispered. "I can't."

"Someone always gets hurt, El, and it's usually the one who didn't see it coming."

Gabriella hated that Chad was right. She hated that he knew her deepest secrets that only Troy and Sharpay should know. She hated that with everything inside her, with falling apart, with her heart in pieces, the only person left to confide in was Chad. It should have been her brother. It should have been her best friend. It should have been her sister. She hated that Troy and Sharpay had ripped away her options in the one time that she needed them.


	3. Chapter Two

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Two**

* * *

He made her feel fragile. Breakable. Glass-like. The way he touched her skin so lightly had Sharpay Evans sucking in her breath and holding it until the quivering in her belly subsided and the rushing sound in her ears abated. He stripped away the confidence she portrayed in public and reduced her to a giggling, preening little girl who spent hours trying to look perfect for her mirror, her audience, and him. If he told her to show up at a basketball game wearing his jersey and red hot pants, she probably would without a fleeting hesitation, although it had yet to happen. If he made mention to a dress or a pair of jeans or something she had bought on a shopping spree in their sophomore year or in junior high, Sharpay would tear apart her closet and then Gabriella's to find it. She kept a pair of ballet flats in her locker so that if he made an offhand comment that high heels in the high school hallways was stupid and snobbish, she could dash to the third floor during a break in their classes and quickly change. She would do anything to keep that feeling of being preserved and revered that she felt when he kept their kisses chaste.

There had been a time when Sharpay slotted Troy Bolton into the same neat box that her brother held. He had just been another stray kid that Gabriella had picked up on the playground that their parents would force Sharpay to address with politeness and respect. He had been a scrawny kid with scruffy dirty blonde hair that his mother buzzed off once in the seventh grade. His blue eyes had been remarkable to someone who spent her childhood hearing comments like 'it's so rare to see a blonde with such beautiful brown eye', making her secretly jealous until the eighth grade when Toby Ashwood told her that her eyes were the prettiest he had ever seen. Troy had commented once that they were the only thing similar between her and Gabriella and although it had been years ago, Sharpay always recalled it each time she caught Troy and her sister in a private joke or alone.

She had removed him from his generic, sibling equated box that he occupied along with Chad, Jason and Zeke in the tenth grade when he informed her that Jake Ryan was currently making out with Alyssa Sloane in an upstairs bedroom at Kelsi's party and would unlikely be available to drive her home. He had driven her home and held her hand as she cried for yet another shattered relationship in her young life and when she was ready, he led her through the ghostlike house to Gabriella's room where he passed the job onto the expert. In that moment, as he told her that 'life still went on and Jake's an idiot anyway who can't make first string on any team', Sharpay had fallen in love with Troy Bolton and his crystal clear eyes that shone across the room in the dark. He had been placed in a new box that she labelled 'Must Have Prince Charming' and unceremoniously kicked Kyle Birches out.

There had been a plan and everything, secretly plotted out in the shiny pink notebook she hid between her mattress that also held lyrics to the songs she wrote but never shared. In point form she had devised a plan to make him fall for her, but the tenth grade ended and summer began and even when school resumed and she had gathered quite a following of admirers, she remained Troy-less. He was still there, at every turn, every step and every free moment, but all she got for her endeavours was odd looks from Gabriella and smirks from Chad. Troy kept his distance, hugging her and tickling Gabriella, ruffling her hair and kissing Gabriella's forehead. Only once did he acknowledge that he wasn't blind to her wooing, and it broke her heart to hear the word 'sister' and 'friend' fall in the same sentence as 'find someone who loves you'. She had spun on her heel and run home, up the winding driveway and through the cold and empty halls to find Gabriella sprawled on her bed with headphones in. She had looked surprised to hear her sister's confession of desiring Troy Bolton above anything Valentino. She had been hurt that Sharpay hadn't told her the secret inscribed in the Operation Fairytale handbook that the notebook had been converted to. They weren't supposed to keep secrets.

That was why when Gabriella hurled herself into Sharpay's bedroom last Spring, the blonde girl hadn't lied. Troy had stuttered and begged her with his pleading eyes to do something, but Sharpay couldn't keep the truth from the one person who knew everything about her. Gabriella's face in that moment had burned into Sharpay's mind forever. The devastation on the equally devastingly gorgeous face. The pain as she swung her head to Troy as if to accuse him of something dirty and sinful. Sharpay had never felt judged for her wild side or flirtation with others' heartache, but for that minute in time, she felt humiliated in her sister's presence. She felt spoilt.

It was after that, that Troy's protection and insistence on taking things slow had come into play. It was like they had gone backwards from the climax- literally. Instead of things getting hotter than they had between the sheets on that perfect night, they had cooled to a point where his fingers barely grazed her and his lips rarely sought hers. He said it was easy, to act the same as they had before falling on top of one another, but Sharpay was anxious to feel something more than protected. She wanted that yet, but she wanted to feel real. Alive. The way sparks would dance upon her hands or the way Chad looked at Taylor. She needed to feel wanted. Porcelain dolls were beautiful to look at and cherished, but Sharpay wasn't a doll and she was tired of being viewed from a distance.

Her sister was no help either, busy as she was running every committee under the sun and burying herself in the editor's position of the yearbook. Even at the dinner table on the rare evenings that all of them were together, Ryan home from Kelsi's or Gabriella emerging from her study hole on the second floor, Sharpay couldn't bring herself to ask her sister for advice. He was her best friend and it would be weird. That had been Gabriella's reasons for adamantly hating the blooming relationship. She had run off to Oregon with the excuse of 'It's like watching you and Ryan kiss' and Sharpay had missed her. She still did. She had no one to interrogate on date night outfits or hair highlights because each time Gabriella simply waved a hand and told her that 'he loves you and it doesn't matter'. Sharpay knew love. She knew infatuation and lust. She knew Gabriella and she knew Troy. They had come apart and although she didn't know why, she knew that her sister was avoiding him because of it.

* * *

Parties weren't real parties, or successful parties, if the Evans' didn't show up. Ryan was the only respected DJ and everyone else was second rated. Or third. Sharpay brought the sparkle and the fire and ability to twist everything to her will and Gabriella brought the allure of the unattainable- a favourite pastime of high school boys. She went on dates but never dated- not since the summer before her junior year when her stepfather had physically tossed the college boy in the rec room to the front lawn with the threat of a law suit. He had been a tutor hired to teach her how to start a school paper from scratch and paid by the student government but Mr. Evans hadn't cared about anything but the way the guy's eyes had looked everywhere but Gabriella's face.

Then there was Bolton and Danforth. Attached or not, neither girl managed to sneak away under the radar of the two best friends and their brother. Even with his altering status change with Sharpay, Troy was still considered Gabriella's bodyguard- despite the more recent and unknown events that forced him to become an unwanted bodyguard. With the Evans came the basketball team and with them came status. High school importance turned on the whim of two girls and their ability to hide every emotion beneath layers of alcohol and dance partners. Resentment and desire alike; the former found Gabriella in the kitchen of the Cross home on Saturday night and the latter found her with a firm attachment to the glass in her hand.

"How many is that?" someone whispered from the far end of the kitchen where the wall cut away to reveal the dining room table, heaped with food, on the other side of the partial wall.

"Jason came to find me when he poured number four but he promised there was barely anything in it but juice," someone else replied to Chad as the basketball player tipped his soda can and downed the remainder of his most-likely-to-be final drink.

"Which means she's probably on five by now," Chad responded, anger building in his veins not only at the person who kept refilling her glass but at the person she was using it to forget. "And she probably mixed it herself."

"_She_," came the emphasized but slurred hiss from the opposite end of the room, "can hear you perfectly and would appreciate it if you left her to her fun." Gabriella glared at them over the rim of her nearly empty glass.

"_She_ is drunk," he told her, striding across the tiled floor to seize the slim wrist in one hand while prying the glass out of her grip with the other. "I'm taking you home before it gets out of hand."

"Chad, man, let her be. She's not that bad and Sharpay and Troy just got here. We'll keep an eye on her," Zeke assured his friend, silent until that moment.

"Listen to Baylor," Gabriella replied in a haughty voice that most responded to quicker than light travelled, "I'm fine. The first week of school is over and I'm celebrating. I also walked in on my sister filling her purse with condoms so tonight is a night that should be toasted and cheered and celebrated and toasted-Wait, I said that already." She giggled and reached a hand for the slender neck of the vodka bottle that sat dangerously close to the edge. "Anyway, the point is to let me drink so that when I go home alone, I won't know why."

Chad's heart twisted as their friends shot each other looks of confusion and understanding, although Chad was certain their conclusions were wrong. She was an actress who learned from the best and the best had taught them all how to lie their way out of any broken curfews or under-aged hangovers. Lie with the truth. They thought she was lonely. He knew she was trying to forget why. Sighing, he tried to catch her hand before it could strangle the liquor bottle and chug down the final ounces remaining at the bottom. Instead he startled her and before he could pull her away, the glass had shattered against the floor in a sparkling, glittering puddle of diamond shards.

"Fuck," she gasped, bending on instinct to grab the cap and its attached crystal that lay partially intact near her feet.

"Ella, don't!" Chad yelled but his hands were full of empty vodka glasses and her free arm and she moved too fast. "Damn it," he swore as he saw her hand wrap around the jagged edge.

"Ow!" She seemed surprised and shocked, staring mesmerized at the thin line of red that appeared across her palm. It grew as her fingers tightened before releasing the bottle neck to crash to the floor once more. She pulled her other hand from Chad, touching the now blurring and dripping lines that reached towards her wrist. It didn't hurt, she told herself in a detached voice. It should hurt but it doesn't.

"Shit, Elle," Chad murmured in an even voice as his wrapped an arm around her waist and set her jean clad butt on the wet but safe countertop. "That was stupid."

"Well, maybe I'm just stupid," she told him, voice thick with tears that gathered in her eyes without warning. His head jerked up in surprise.

"You're not stupid. Don't ever think that." He finished wrapping the dishtowel around her hand before bending to pick up the shattered pieces of her coping mechanism, wondering if Mr or Mrs Evans ever noticed that their supply dwindled between each business trip. Vodka was always her first choice.

"I should have told him yes when he asked. Is this my punishment? Is this his way of telling me how much it hurt when I told him it would ruin everything? Why didn't I just say yes?" she sobbed, leaning her face against his chest so that her tears mixed with the design on his t-shirt.

"He's not punishing you. He could never hurt you that much on purpose. It just seems that way because it hurts you too," Chad assured her, dumping the broken glass in the sink and asking Jason for a dustpan or something to get the rest of the shards before tackling the puddle. When both Jason and Zeke had left the room, Chad turned back to Gabriella. "Never think that he wants to do that."

"Then why? Why is he with her when I'm right here? He said forever and then he went to her! Why are they upstairs screwing with pink and cherry flavoured condoms?" Her sobs grew more hysterical as the alcohol flooded her bloodstream further.

"Shh," he told her, leaning back so he could examine her hand that was leaking blood around the makeshift bandage. "It's going to be okay. We'll get through this. You'll figure it out, but first we need to make a trip downtown to see my mom."

"What? Why?" she asked, suddenly frightened at the idea of an adult finding her this intoxicated but especially when said adult was working the night shift in Albuquerque Emergency.

"You need stitches, Elle, and she'll do it without having to call to Amsterdam for permission to put them in." Chad explained gently, hearing footsteps pound down the stairs overhead and something crash as the person rounded the corner out of breath.

"Ella? What happened? How bad is it? Jason said you broke a bottle." The questions tumbled off Troy's tongue as he stood trembling in the kitchen door.

"It's bad enough," Chad replied evenly, "I'm taking her down to Emerg to see if mom can help. Tell Pay and Ryan she can sleep at my house when we're done."

Troy stopped himself from saying the familiar line where he would insist that he take her. Take care of her. Hold her hand while the needle pierced her skin. He had done it before, on her knee two years earlier at the beach when she cut her foot on a hidden rock, but this time something in Chad's normally calm gaze stopped him. It pierced through him, burning into Troy's eyes before slowly scanning down his body until Troy realized that he was shirtless with his jeans on but the belt dangling undone. His sneakers had been pulled on in haste and his hair stood on end in some places. Heat rose in his cheeks as he stepped back once.

"I'll let them know," he said softly, remembering the girl upstairs whose hair fell in golden waves over the pillow and whose bra he had tripped over after Jason's hasty knock on the door. The girl with magic hands that knew how to make him betray his heart by responding to her touch. That girl was waiting for him. "Take care of her."

There was another unnerving look from Chad before Troy noticed that Gabriella hadn't looked at him once. Seeing him take another step back, Chad tried to be neutral. He knew how hard it was on both of them. He knew where the guilt lay heavy on their hearts as they tried to forget the pull. Ignore the urge to break the rules of loyalty. To pursue happiness for only their own sake. He knew but it didn't make Gabriella's questions any less hard. Any less painful to hear and answer and assure. Grabbing a bottle of water from the counter, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her from the counter. Taking her jacket from Zeke who had appeared behind Troy, Chad strode towards the front door and away from the crowd of students and pulsing beat. Turning to see Troy still waiting in the doorway to the illuminated kitchen, Chad met his eyes.

"I always do, don't I?" he asked, and then the door slammed, cutting off Troy's view.


	4. Chapter Three

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Three**

* * *

The house, sitting atop the incline at the end of a swopping driveway on the most exclusive street in the real estate profession within Albuquerque, had always struck Chad Danforth as a comfort zone. It used to be. Despite the sprawling floorplans that featured three spare bedrooms and four extra baths, plus two rec rooms, a ballet studio and a formal and informal dining room, the house had always been a haven to the friends of the Montez-Evans. It was frequently a place without parents but still retained a cook and an au pair who left the children to their own devices as they approached adolescence and then into high school. It was freedom and escape and discovery. The games room held a Wii, the study an infinite number of books, the rec room an entire wall of movies and the back yard a pool and half court of asphalt. Like puppies with new territory, the Montez-Evans children and their friends had christened each area of the ground and house with their antics. The property held memories and snapshots of their lives, realized in the proof of countless pictures plastered in a handful of bedrooms across the city with the same handful of people in each one.

Chad Danforth had kissed Taylor McKessie for the first time on the backyard gazebo hidden among the azalea bushes. Kelsi had broken up with Jason in the tenth grade in the bathroom on the first floor during a girls' night that he showed up to crash. Zeke Baylor had taught Gabriella to make enchiladas in the fully furbished, stainless steel kitchen. Sharpay had fallen in love with Troy on the front step and Troy had fallen in love with Gabriella on the balcony off the bedroom on the second floor seven weeks later. Gabriella had denied her feelings for Troy under the lilac tree in the garden by the southern fence- six months later when he finally confessed them to her- and had found him in bed with her sister-the next day- in the bedroom fifty feet and three floors up from that very spot. Chad had let a sobbing Gabriella into his SUV at the bottom of the driveway after she had called to tell him what had happened and he had told Troy to make his choice while whispering in harsh but hushed voices in the study no one would think to find them in.

Troy made his decision that day in the study and Chad had made his. He understood that Troy had simply wanted comfort and that five shots of whiskey from Mr Evans' liquor cabin that was easily picked by Sharpay's hairpin preceded a rash and horribly regretted decision. He understood that. Troy, the angel-god of the basketball court was only human, and a hormonally conflicted teenaged one at that, had given in to the next best thing to his heart's desire. He wanted her and had taken the closest and most-willing thing to her. Chad knew he regretted it every day. Every moment. Every second that he saw the pain in Gabriella's eyes and the love in Sharpay's. But as the outsider, the one beyond the invisible love triangle, Chad stood and judged his best friend's actions.

The pain that rolled off Gabriella in waves was wearing at Chad. It wasn't Troy's mistake that held the other sister in a web of doubt and isolation; it was his decision in the study. The one that was worded as 'I'll never have her now, not without hurting Sharpay, and I can't live with hurting both'. Chad's response had been along the lines of 'that's fucking fucked, dude' but the threads of their lives had already been frayed by Sharpay's not-so-subtle pursuit of Troy to the open eye and Troy's infatuation with everything Gabriella. Chad was pretty certain that the only people blind to the events leading up to Troy's shaky betrayal were the three people involved. When Troy had made the heart wrenching decision to stay with Sharpay, Chad had stood firm with his own choice: To keep everything from falling apart. To play along and clean up the pieces. To protect the three of them from falling under the weight of their demons. Like Troy's though, like he had tried to tell his friend, everything had a price and Chad was feeling the cost of his.

It had cost him Sharpay, who had yet to realize it, each time Chad felt his stomach curl at the thought of her devastation when she discovered the truth. It was costing him Troy, each time he hid the cringe at the blatant lies or the excuses or the moments when the connection between him and Gabriella was so overwhelming that Chad fought the urge to flee and leave them to their own devices. It was costing him Taylor, who although she never questioned his devotion to her and his friendship with Gabriella, was pulling away each time he disappeared during lunch or his cell phone rang during a date or when he abandoned her at a party to find a drive with Zeke so Chad could take Gabriella to the emergency room for stitches. And, despite his best attempts and the price it extolled otherwise, it was costing him Gabriella.

She was falling, unwilling to ignore her heart since it was twisted and wrung each time she saw her sister or her best friend. Separate or together, the facts were shoved down her throat each time they passed each other in the school hallway or sat down to dinner. Chad watched in homeroom as she would schedule her life around not being near the two of them. He watched her fingers curl as Taylor tutored Troy in math or Kelsi ran lines with Sharpay. A week into the school year that she had assured him would be a new beginning, and Chad felt his other best friend slipping through his fingers. Her return from Oregon had revealed jeans that were a tad too big and pale cheeks that even expertly applied blush couldn't disguise. The routines established over the years continued and the students at East giggled and gossiped over the beautiful and contrasting sisters, not noticing the fissures and cracks in the surface that ran so deep. The laughs were further between and the smiles forced a little too much, but they all stuck to their decisions, ignoring the consequences that threatened.

Troy chose Sharpay and Gabriella let her have him. Sharpay chose which dances to perform at the basketball games and Gabriella chose to stand with Taylor hide how much it hurt that her friend wore the number of her lover and Gabriella was alone yet unavailable. And Chad chose to scrape her off Jason's counter after too many drinks and a broken vodka bottle and drove her to the emergency room where he held her hand and calmed her and then drove her sleepy, hungover body to his house where she slept on his bed while he crashed on the floor.

It was a routine like the school mornings when Sharpay and Gabriella would arrive in perfection. Sometimes she would find Tequila in the cabinet and it would be Zeke's bar stool or Kelsi's backyard swing. Usually she puked instead of cutting herself. Usually Troy was beyond functioning instead of upstairs receiving a blowjob from his girlfriend. Usually Chad let it go, but the routine was growing old.

* * *

The sun glinted off the soft pavement as Troy twisted the wheel of his truck to pull into the driveway, jerking it into park outside the open garage door. His parents' cars weren't in sight and he recalled the mention of an after-church women's gathering and a junior varsity game at South High against West that needed to be analyzed. Squinting tired eyes behind his aviators, he pushed the door open and slid to the ground. The door slammed shut behind him as he rummaged for the key to the front door. Flicking through the keychain, he jerked his head up before he could fall over the dark figure on his doorstep.

Chad's usual easy grin was replaced with a grin line and his shaggy hair was pulled back uncharacteristically. His shoes were unlaced, like normal, and Troy took comfort in that fact before noticing the absence of the persistent basketball. Chad was silent as he stood to his full height and fell into step behind Troy as he jammed the key into the lock and turned the tumblers. Pushing open the door, he was met with the smell of pancakes and the air conditioned breeze. His shoes were tossed aside and his sunglasses thrown on the kitchen table as he reached the fridge.

"Drink?" he asked, pulling out a water pitcher and reaching overhead for a glass. Chad shook his head, leaning a hip into the island counter and shaking his head. "Cookie?" Troy offered again.

"Dude, stop the bullshit," Chad growled, face set so that his jaw looked even more defined. Troy set down the glass of water and turned, his forearms resting on the counter behind him as he faced his friend.

"How is she?" The light tone of hospitality gone, Troy's voice dropped lower as he sought information. Chad contemplated telling him he had no right but knew that would be pushing it. He hadn't come to fight.

"Mom put six stitches in her palm and doped her up on painkillers once the booze wore off. We got back around four this morning and I just dropped her off at home before coming here." Chad's words were clipped, sparing minuscule details and just delivering facts. "She's fine."

"No, she's not," Troy retorted, shifting his gaze away from Chad's piercing look. The dark skinned ball player let the comment go, not willing to spend precious minutes deciphering how many hidden meanings could be in Troy's words. Sighing, Troy ran a hand through his hair. "Pay's with Taylor."

"I know. She's pissed at me for leaving her at the party. Probably bitching me out," Chad mused, exhausted from spending the night in a sterile room and then listening to the six voicemail messages left on his phone by his girlfriend. "Ryan was home. I gave him directions and told him what mom said. He said he would stick around for the day."

"He was supposed to have dinner with Kelsi's parents," Troy pointed out, swirling the water in his glass as if he hoped to take a sip and find it had miraculously turned into something stronger.

"He didn't say anything," Chad told him, crossing his ankles and keeping his gaze steady.

"I should go over there," Troy decided, dumping the water down the sink.

"No, you shouldn't." Chad's voice caught him off guard and for the first time, Troy caught a hint of something boiling beneath the surface of his impassive expression. "You're not going near her."

"Who the fuck are you to say that?" Troy retorted, angry at the role Chad had slipped himself into. Troy was supposed to be her knight. Her protector. Hell, he always had been. Since when had his duty been delegated to Chad? "If I want to see my best friend, I will see her."

"She doesn't want to see you." The words slammed into him, each one a barb to his heart.

"What do you mean? Did she say that? Did she imply something? Is she mad that I didn't go with her last night?" Guilt squeezed his heart, tightening the cage that had been in place for the last few months as he kept his emotions under the confining bars of captivity. "Chad, I need to see her."

"I know, but Troy, man, I'm done. I can't keep doing this," Chad explained, scratching the back of his arm with the other hand.

"Do what?" He watched his friend's face for something, anything, to give him a hint of what was going on. What Gabriella had said.

"Putting her back together for you. Troy, this needs to end. Something has to be done. Every time she comes to me I try, I really do, but I send her away with a little bit more missing. She's falling apart and I can't help. She wants her sister and she wants her best friend. She needs them, not me. So you have a choice that is unfair and hurtful but it needs to happen because we're losing her and she won't come back. One of these times, you will look at Ella and not know who you see." Chad's eyes glistened but Troy kept telling himself it was because his own vision was blurry.

"What is it? Tell me what to do because I am lost, Chad. I don't know what's right anymore. This was supposed to be the good choice. This was supposed to make everything easier but now, if she won't talk to me, I don't know what to do." Troy pleaded with every ounce of his being for Chad to have the answer. To take charge and give him the perfect solution.

"I don't know," Chad said, shaking his head and shattering Troy's hopes. "I can't tell you what to do, but I know you need to do something. You need to figure it out."

"Either way, I lose her," Troy replied, sinking to his feet by the cupboards and the dishwasher, his head in his hands as he tried to think through the anguish. "Hell, I've lost her already."

"Maybe," Chad told him bluntly, seeing the wince in the strong shoulders, "But Pay and the rest of us don't deserve to lose her too."

Troy searched his eyes, seeing the truth there, seeing the pain. He knew what he should do. Should have done from the beginning, but Sharpay was his tie to Gabriella, the only one left to him. If he severed it, he was certain he wouldn't survive intact. His mind spun, his brain telling him what was right, moral, and ethical while his heart pleaded to save it from more heartbreak. To keep it poorly knit together.

"I can't give her up," Troy decided, seeing Chad's stance become more stiff and his face harden. "I can't. She's everything. You understand that, right?" he begged, hands trembling at Chad's sudden change in demeanour.

"Then I can't stand here and watch anymore," Chad barked at him, threatening.

"What? You're walking away? We need you!" Troy could feel everything falling apart as his heart struggled to keep beating.

"No, she needs me." Chad straightened and headed for the front door, Troy scrambling to his feet to chase him. Turning at the door, the darker of the two gave his friend a quick once-over, pity in his eyes. "You're my best friend and you've always had my back so this is killing me but I can't watch her fade away anymore while she starves herself of you in favour of her sister. I can't. So I choose her."

There was a long pause of silence as everything crashed between them, promises smashing and dreams cracking, while Chad let Troy process what he had said. He couldn't stay much longer; the broken girl at home on her bed needed him to get there before her sister returned from another shopping spree for another outfit to impress the boy before him. He needed to leave. Seeing the shoulders cave in, Chad knew Troy had finally understood what he was causing.

"Good," Troy finally said, honesty in his voice. "She deserves you more than I do. Tell her I'm working on it. Tell her she's still the most important."

"Actions are louder than words, Troy," Chad said, his final words carefully planned so that the full weight of the conversation sunk in. "Last night she drank half a bottle of vodka because you and Pay were using cherry flavoured condoms upstairs. Consider that when you ask me to say she's number one."

And for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Troy Bolton watched his oldest friend turn his back to him and leave.


	5. Chapter Four

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Four**

* * *

He was a stranger to her. Every day since the one laced with pain and nausea and cruel realization, she had searched his eyes and his words for a semblance of the person she knew. Each day, she came up empty. There were flashes, spontaneous moments that hit her in the face when she least expected it, but they ended abruptly and she was tossed from the fairytale in her head and thrown headlong into the hell she resided in. He had told her he loved her. More than a sister or a best friend or a classmate or a fellow Lakers fan. Like Prince Charming loved every fucking princess there was. How Phillip loved Aurora or Eric loved Ariel- because they were the only two with real names that couldn't be mocked by Ella Enchanted later on-and how Romeo loved Juliet. Except that she had no desire to kill herself over a stupid boy who was so conflicted that he ran to her sister in anger and screwed her brains out. No, her best friend had become a stranger, and even if she had loved him or considered it at one point, it would take a thousand fairy-godmothers and fucking magical pumpkins to bring her to happily ever after.

She used to be happy. Peppy. Idealistic and spontaneous. She had been fun and glowing and full of laughter. If he was a stranger to her, Gabriella had become a stranger to herself. The girl in the mirror with the glossy dark hair and sparkling brown eyes was a fake. She was far from glossy or sparkly. Her ideals had been ripped away from her like that dreaded scene in Bambi where his mother gets shot and every kid has nightmares for months. Sharpay now, that girl was the princess. She glowed with happiness and it twisted Gabriella's heart to know it was all a lie. She didn't want to know. It was the flaw in her existence that made her wish to take back time. If Troy hadn't told her how he felt, she wouldn't feel betrayed. Because at the heart of it, that was what ate her. Is that what really happened in Cinderella? She ran from the ball without saying anything, and in his travels to find the owner of the glass slipper, Prince Charming slept with everyone along the way until he found her?

Fairytales were fucked, she had decided in the days following Troy's betrayal. All the stupid songs and dance numbers, all the twittering birds and doe eyed animals that gave advice, and all the magical wands that made it all okay in the span of fifteen minutes and one kiss were setting every child up for cynical outlooks on life when they reached high school. A horror film where the killer cuts out their lover's heart and feasts on it- now that was the reality of the situation. She had taught herself that lesson. She had walked in on Sharpay and Troy, naked as babes in Pay's bed, and only Troy had looked guilty. It was obvious, given the dreamlike innocent gaze that was plastered all over Pay's face as she floated around the house, that Gabriella didn't even get the privilege of watching sappy movies and eating ice cream. Her sister would have been all over that and Gabriella hadn't been about to burst her candy pink bubble of giggles to inform her that Troy had in fact loved her until twelve hours ago when sex with Sharpay seemed more inviting than waiting for Gabriella to figure it out.

Yes, those had been her words. They were what any normal girl said when her best friend declared his undying love for her. The same guy who listened to all her guy problems and had held her the day after she lost her virginity to the football captain after four tequila shots and a can of whipped cream. The same guy who knew that she hated her tiny boobs and worried about her ass. She hadn't known how to react when said guy confessed to her. So 'I need time' had slid off her tongue an hour before heading out on a first date with a guy she felt nothing for but felt that she couldn't let down with fifteen minutes notice. So much for waiting. Troy's idea of eternity had been extremely different from hers and she blamed Disney and their fucking fairytales. Obviously, in reality and in high school, eternity lasted the duration of finding a willing sex buddy and then it bluntly ended. She wished Sharpay would realize that before Troy did something stupid.

Gabriella was stuck. Despite Chad's opinion and understanding nature, he kept blaming Troy and that wasn't the problem. He had caused the problem, sure, but the problem itself was that she was lying to her sister. Troy was lying to her sister. Chad was lying to her sister. And his girlfriend, but it was Pay at the center. Gabriella could live with Troy loving Sharpay. If some magical, witchy moment had occurred like the one in Midsummer Night's Dream where everyone gets their brains muddled and fall in love with the wrong people, than Gabriella could have survived. Even if it meant Sharpay played Titania who fell in love with the ass. But Troy was playing games and putting her in the middle. He didn't love Sharpay, he loved Gabriella and each time he told her in a whisper, her heart beat against her chest and her palms sweated and her traitorous mind considered that maybe- just maybe- she loved him too.

What he wanted went against everything she knew. It went against family and love and loyalty. Her parents would never understand, Ryan would side with Pay and Gabriella would be left with the traitor and Chad. It wasn't enough. She wanted all of them and Troy didn't get it. He just wanted her because in his eyes, that was all that mattered. But to Gabriella, Pay mattered just as much. Her warring heart couldn't give in to his desires. If he could fuck her over for her sister, what would stop him any other time that eternity wasn't enough?

* * *

She lay on the bed, its pristine white coverlet rumpled beneath her and the hot pink pillows tossed in a heap against the wall. Her slender tanned legs were bent, the white shorts scrunched up to leave nothing much to the imagination and the pink tank hitched past her stomach. Her blonde hair curled and tangled in waves across the bed and over the edge while her teeth bit into her glossy lips. Both hands were propped under her head and brown eyes stared at the ceiling as she daydreamed, the book on the floor forgotten.

She was startled at the knock on the door, not knowing that anyone was home. Turning her head to observe the door upside down, she grinned at the girl in the door who was easing it open. Dressed in a purple velour sweat suit with light purple Uggs on her feet, Gabriella shuffled inside and awkwardly paused in front of the door. Sharpay frowned at the tangled hair that hadn't been styled all weekend and let her gaze travel to the white bandage wrapped around her sister's palm from the party two night ago.

"You're home," Sharpay observed, catching the wry look in Gabriella's eye as she continued to stand in the middle of the room. "You coming in or do you need something?"

"Um, I was wondering if you had finished your English reading for tomorrow. I can't find my book and I have some left," she responded quietly, wanting nothing more than to escape back her safe haven. Chad had finally tossed her out of his living room to spend time with Taylor and Gabriella knew it wasn't fair to expect anything different. Ryan was at Kelsi's and their parents were in the Netherlands to close a deal. Gabriella shifted her stance and didn't notice Sharpay catch the begging look in her eye.

"Ugh, it's on the floor," she said pointing at the book with disdain, "Take it. Maybe it will make more sense to you."

Gabriella hesitated at the comment. With Sharpay, it had two possible indications. One was the literal interpretation which told one to take the book and get out, the other was for the person to take it and stay and help. Taking the time to cross the room for thinking, she knelt slowly and grasped the book, she closed her eyes and made the decision to take the oncoming pain and offer her sister what she wanted.

"You want help?" Gabriella tried not to cringe as the words left her mouth, praying that they could stay on topic and spend time together without touching live wires. "I read it last year."

"Then why do you want to read it again?" Sharpay inquired, curiously. "It's hardly entertaining."

"Pay, it's King Arthur. What were you expecting?" Gabriella rolled her eyes and let a smile lift her lips, enjoying a classic moment with her sister.

"Well, I didn't expect him to go and die. He's supposed to be a hero, right? So how does the hero screw everything up so badly?" Sharpay let an eyebrow drift upwards, past her bangs that she blew away from her face. "I mean, he loses the girl, screws his sister, kills all the babies but the right one, and then he dies and plunges the country into darkness. Really heroic."

Gabriella's retort caught in her throat as her explanation spun through her head, threatening to spill out and reveal her life to the one person who could never know. She had forgotten the stupid love triangle. The stupid fairytale entwined with the action. The review on the back cover that called the myth one of the most romantic tales of all time. She stared at her sister, golden haired and gorgeous. Perfectly sculpted face and luscious body. Sultry and timeless, Sharpay was the modern day Guinevere. The princess.

"Brie?" Sharpay called, annoyed by emotionless expression on her sister's face as she stared into space. "Brie, the story please. Explain it to me."

"Oh, right," Gabriella said, shaking her head and sinking to the ground, book open in her lap. "Okay, so where do you want to start?"

"The baby thing with the witch," she replied, rolling over to lay on her stomach, making a pillow with her hands as she waited for the magical answers to spill from the genius in the family. "The sister thing is confusing."

"Right," Gabriella let out a shaky breath and tried to hide her shaking, distressed nerves by thumping through the pages. "So, Morgaine or Morgause- depends on the version- wants to guarantee her connection to the throne because she's illegitimate, so she decides to get pregnant with Arthur's son and force him to become the successor. Arthur knows he has sisters but has never met them and he's horny and stupid and ignores all the warnings and sleeps with her anyway. There's a prediction that Arthur's son will be his downfall so when he finds out what happened, he tries to kill all the baby boys born in the right time to get rid of the problem."

"So he doesn't know she's his sister?" Sharpay clarified, obviously relieved that the story wasn't as twisted as she first thought. "But she knows who he is, right?"

"Yeah," Gabriella replied. Stupid, naive Arthur was starting to remind her of Sharpay and it made her queasy.

"Okay, so what about the whole Lancelot affair thing. There's an apple or something and the queen is at the stake-," Sharpay saw Gabriella nod when she recognized the scene.

"Okay, so Guinevere married Arthur because she had to but they grow to love each other. He thinks she's fabulous and she thinks he's pretty awesome, but she is in love with Lancelot." The hole in her heart was growing and she ducked her head to hide the threatening tears. "Lancelot and Arthur are best friends or like brothers-"

"Like us and Ryan," Sharpay smiled, and Gabriella tried to return it but couldn't so she looked back at the book whose fuzzy words she couldn't read.

"Um, yeah." Her fingers were fumbling as she turned the page. "So anyway, it's illegal for the queen to sleep with someone else but she can't help it so they start an affair. Arthur actually knows or suspects, but as long as they don't give him proof, he lets them because he wants them to be happy." The tears were beyond controllable now and the dam threatened to break.

"So he's okay with them screwing and lying? Shouldn't he be, like, pissed or something?"

"No, but the other knights are because they think it's disrespectful. Anyway, different versions have different stories, but at one point Guinevere is accused of trying to kill one of the knights and Arthur makes Lancelot her champion to save her from burning at the stake. It starts a big chain reaction and all the knights take sides and try to slaughter Lancelot and each other as the story keeps getting more complicated and-" Gabriella gasped a sob and flung the book across the room, "You should just Google it or something."

"Brie?" Sharpay asked, surprised at her sister's outburst. "What's wrong?"

"It's just a stupid story, Pay. Just read it again and try to actually pay attention," Gabriella demanded harshly, swiping at the unbidden tears.

"You don't cry over stories, Gabriella," she snapped, sitting up on the bed and glaring. "Or you never did. It's like you came back this whole new person."

"Or I left a whole new person and came back the same," Gabriella retorted, pushing herself back up.

"Whatever. I get that you miss your dad, but I missed you here and you keep acting like you'd rather be anywhere but here," Sharpay's voice was softer and Gabriella felt guilty at letting the carefully maintained control slip. "Is that it? Do you not want to be with us anymore?"

"Pay, it's not that easy. Everything is different now." She couldn't look her in the eye, knowing that everything would be visible in her eyes.

"Because of me and Troy? We're still the same; it's just that we're together. I'm not going to ban you from him, Brie. He's your best friend, I get that." She was so honest that Gabriella wanted to slap her silly and tell her everything just so she would wake up and feel the pain everyone else did when they learned that their fairytale ended like King Arthur and the Knights.

"But it is different," Gabriella insisted. "I catch myself from making inappropriate comments and we don't have movie nights anymore because that's your time. It is different."

"You don't like it." Well, Gabriella thought, she was never one for bullshitting around her questions. Tact was not a strong point.

"It's not that I don't like it." Lie. "It's just awkward." Bigger lie. "He's different now." Not a lie, but she didn't know that.

"We don't want it to be," Sharpay whispered and Gabriella felt guilt so overwhelming that it seemed to choke her. "I want to be able to talk to you about him."

"I know, but I can't be in the middle." Too late. "I would be keeping secrets from both of you." Too late.

"I miss you," Sharpay insisted. "I want to come ask for advice. Or cry. And I can't because you don't want to hear it."

"You can always come to me," Gabriella assured her. The first truth she had spoken in awhile. "You are first." Another truth. She was, even before Gabriella herself.

"Even before Troy?"

"Especially before Troy."

Sharpay smiled like a little girl and reached down to pluck the book back up to the bed. Turning, Gabriella watched as she found her place and began reading before inching out into the hallway and closing the door. It was always the little moments when reality got her. When she couldn't dream of her happily ever after. Sighing, she padded down the hall and into her room where she curled up on the bed, away from the pictures on her nightstand that reminded her of their betrayals. Staring at the wall, her heart pounded in her chest as she recalled the story of the star crossed king and queen of England and their champion. All of them loving each other equally, but happiness only found in causing the others pain. No one ever won.

And the most heart-wrenching recollection that Gabriella hadn't gotten to explain to Sharpay was the ending, where Guinevere checks herself into an abbey and dies alone and cynical, years after Arthur and Lancelot destroyed everything and everyone between them. No happily ever after for them, either, and Gabriella got the feeling that she had just found her fairytale with the betrayal and lies and broken promises that Disney forgot to make. They didn't have to. She could write it for them.


	6. Chapter Five

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Five**

* * *

It had been late fall when he realized that he loved her. Every detail was etched in his brain; each word unable to be distorted by time. It was November and Thanksgiving had been right around the corner. The weather was cold and disheartening but she had insisted on sitting on the hammock below her balcony that she and Ryan had strung that summer. Dressed in jeans and their winter jackets, Uggs on her feet and his numb through the soles of his sneakers, they had shared a bath of chocolate covered strawberries stolen from the kitchen and the food supplies for the party taking place at the opposite end of the house. They had fought over the last one and she won. It was a split second, lost amongst all the minutes in the universe, that Troy looked at her closed eyes as she savoured the sweetness and he had settled his gaze on her plump lips, red against the cold and the fruit dye. He loved her in that moment.

Months passed then and it was May, with the buds on the lilac trees just offering a peak at their color and fragrance to come, at a party to celebrate the last weekend before finals overtook their lives. She had been wearing a stark white dress cut to suit every curve she possessed. Her foot were bare as he led her away from the mass of people and her hair had been tumbling from the pins after spending hours dancing. He had no idea what he had been wearing but he hadn't mattered- she did. Her eyes were lit with excitement and joy and anticipation of the summer. They had collapsed in giggles on the ground as he commented on Jason's pursuit of Martha Cox and she had slapped his arm playfully. Nothing between them was playful after that. They talked about the future and their senior year; the decisions looming and the changes coming. They talked about growing up and finding their paths.

It slipped from his throat without thinking; freezing his intestines like liquid nitrogen as they registered in his brain but the flow didn't stop. He poured out his heart with insistence, clinging to her desperately. She had pulled away, demanding if it was joke, darting her eyes around for witnesses. She had been terrified and he knew her answer before she said it. Wait. Time. Confused. Words jumbled in his head as she stuttered and gestured and begged and pleaded for him to take it back. But he couldn't. He couldn't hold back anymore. Their future spilled around them on the moist, new earth and Troy knew she was desperate.

He thought it would work out. He saw them walking through the ages. Happy. Carefree. He had kissed her then, an impulsive move that sparked a string of them as his emotions spun out of control. He wanted to drag her down to the ground and make her see what he saw. She had run. Actually, she had run to the balcony and climbed the latticed trellis to her bedroom door and after glancing a panicked look at the darkened and vacant room of her sister above, she had slammed the door in his face. Yet, he loved her. It would be okay.

Wrong. Sharpay was not her sister. He loved her, sure, but there was no fire, no passion. No burning desire to handcuff his wrist to hers and remain constantly in her presence. He didn't want to kiss or ravage her until euphoria took over and reality blurred with heaven. She didn't invoke rash actions or gorgeously alliterated words to describe her. She was Sharpay. Pay. Butterfly- the name he gave her after a ballet recital in the seventh grade. Just Sharpay. But she had been there when Gabriella abandoned him. Ran off to the movie theatre with someone he couldn't even remember now, to leave him with his heart in pieces as he prayed she would ditch the guy and come back to him.

Sharpay had been there after fighting with Gabriella over the hem length of her dress. She had been there when Gabriella stormed out for her date, leaving Troy standing on the staircase to watch her leave. Sharpay had been there to coax him to her room to watch a movie. He had kissed her then, thinking that if Gabriella didn't want him, her sister did. It wasn't the same, but somehow his belt had found the floor. His shirt had followed, along with her sweatshirt and slippers. Nails found skin and lips found exposed areas. Hands found hips and their pants found the growing heap on the floor in front of the TV screen. Back had found the bed and in the dawning, pink haze of morning, Gabriella had found them when his mother called to say he hadn't come home and Chad didn't know where he was.

Now, she was never there. He didn't trust himself in the same room as her when they were alone and she knew it. Nothing was okay. Nothing was happy. Nothing was working out. Spiralling downwards at warp speed, he watched her sever every tie they had. She would reach out and pull back. He would advance and she would run. And Sharpay was nowhere closer to being her sister. No closer to the truth. She was a step from happiness and he was holding her back.

* * *

Monday had arrived after a painfully slow weekend where Troy avoided Sharpay because it would put him in close proximity of Gabriella and he was so far gone with withdrawal that he could barely remain sane. He spewed lie after lie until he couldn't remember the truth. Homework. Practice. Guy Time. Family dinner. He had pulled them all out of his ass until she slammed the phone receiver down midsentence. For a split second, he considered forcing her into a corner where any logical female would dump his ass and run for the hills. Only a second. It was quickly replaced with the realization that his time with Gabriella would be further limited and he would definitely not survive.

He craved her. He needed her. She was killing him with her decision to cut him off. Bloodshot eyes met brown ones as his girlfriend slid smoothly onto the bleacher seat beside him and folded perfect white hands in her lap. He took in the sunshine hair that was spun like silk and tried to decide if he could survive without her in his life. He didn't want her where she was, but he still wanted her. He understood that part of Gabriella's argument. They both wanted it all and knew that was impossible. An impasse in their entwined fates.

"Did I do something?" she asked quietly, wincing at the words. "At the party, you seemed-." She shifted and uncrossed her legs. "I thought, you liked it, but then you weren't there the next morning and you won't talk to me."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he told her, still not able to look at her rosy skin without wanting to vomit at how fickle his body could be. His heart rebelled against it but nothing could stop him from responding. "I was worried about Ella."

"Chad took care of her. She's fine." Sharpay's voice held an edge that Troy rarely saw directed in the area of their circle of friends. It was for outsiders.

"I know he did." Her head whipped around and her eyes narrowed. For a moment, Troy thought she had figured it out but that wasn't what he got.

"You're jealous, aren't you? You're upset that he took her to the hospital and you stayed with me. Why does that make you mad?" Her eyes burned with confusion, thrown by the veiled look in his eyes. She had seen it somewhere else recently, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"She wouldn't let me," he responded, hurt laced in his voice as he twisted the truth to hide the lies that came before it. "She chooses him over and over."

"She says things are different." His eyes snapped wide at his girlfriend's words, his shock betrayed by the action. Sharpay shrugged and inspected the nail polish on her hands. "I don't see the difference. You still play with her and I don't follow all your conversations and you're always at the house. You still hug her."

Only when people were around and Troy knew Gabriella wouldn't flee or risk exposing them. Only when Sharpay picked up on the quiet or the tension. Only when the need to touch her was so overwhelming he put everything on the line to hold her close enough to feel the sparks tugging and connecting. Sharpay didn't see the intense stares that they shared when they passed in the hallway. She didn't climb her balcony and see Gabriella crying into her pillow at night. Sharpay didn't see the way they both fell back when unexpected contact occurred.

"I thought there would be a difference," Sharpay confessed, looking up and hating that she couldn't read the look on his face. "I thought we would be different."

"We are." The words tasted like ash.

"You don't touch me in public unless I do it first. You compliment me but you don't notice when something is different. Everything is robotic with you. I'm not glass, Troy. I won't break." She reached for his hand but he moved it to her cheek.

"Everyone breaks, Pay. You, me, Ella. We are different, now, but I don't know how to do all those things you want. I love you, but I love her too, and knowing we cause her discomfort makes me extra conscious of everything. I can't hurt her, Pay. Neither can you." Troy couldn't explain the feeling of being honest with her.

"So what do we do? Are you saying that we should-," her eyes filled and he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"I don't know what I'm saying. I just don't want you to ever doubt how much I care for you, okay?" Sharpay's mind drifted back to Gabriella's rendition of King Arthur the day before and how she had tried to understand the idea of loving everyone equally. "Pay?"

"You love her," she said, and the raised veins on his forearms pulsed as her words hit him.

"Yes." If this was it, then so be it, he told himself. He waited for the fault in the dam to let go.

"But not the same way."

"No." He turned to see it registered and for a moment, he panicked about what to do. The smile on her face stopped his heart and his brain short-circuited as he realized the mistake of his short answers.

"That's okay. I can be okay with that. She's my sister, I can love both of you so why can't you do the same with us?" She slipped under his arm and squeezed his waist.

Closing eyes to ward of the onslaught of terror and panic and nausea, Troy saw that she had switched her role with that of her sister in his explanation. She had so much faith and he was going to rip it away from her soon. Not now, because he wasn't prepared to do it at school with everyone watching. He couldn't do it knowing that Gabriella would follow her the moment it happened, leaving him behind with the broken pieces of three hearts. But soon, he told himself. Soon, he had told Chad.

It had to be soon because he couldn't take anymore of Gabriella withholding herself from him. Her decision to force him into a sick sense of rehab needed to end. Not all addictions needed to be cured.


	7. Chapter Six

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Six**

* * *

His lips still burned against hers, all those months later. It hadn't been their first kiss, and it wasn't the last, but it was engrained in her mind like the etchings on coins that salt and sand can't erase. The light on the paverstones of the garden could be traced to the diffused light coming from her open balcony doors, two floors up, as her curtains danced and twirled in the mid spring air. The moths hovered around the lights spaced evenly along the path, and his eyes had gleamed like the stars in the sky. He had seemed so excited about something as he pulled her away from their friends and dragged her across the grass. She had been laughing at his antics until his words caused her voice to freeze and her blood to rush to her head where it pounded and swirled incoherently. Then he had kissed her.

The first time she kissed Troy Bolton was the seventh grade at his birthday party after Chad won a bet about how many hotdogs he could eat. As the winner, Chad chose the penalty. Tossing her tangled curls that fell over her shoulders and continued to her waist, over her shoulder, Gabriella's eyes had flashed with determination and she had marched up to the birthday boy as he was holding the knife for his cake and grabbed both cheeks before forcefully kissing him. She had a picture of it somewhere in the top drawer of her desk, having been taken by his mother. They looked young and naive and she had demoted it from the frame on her bedstand to the desk after the night in May last year when she left those times behind.

There had been second and third and fourth kisses until they lost count, initiated by both parties but passed off as friendly or protective or comforting. They began occurring without notice, following the stage where Troy insisted that Gabriella was too much of a girl to hang out with him and Chad to play baseball or basketball or soccer and long after the stage where Gabriella thought them both obnoxious for tracking dirt all over the polished house after biking from their neighbourhood to hers. He would press one to her temple when he found her at her locker in the hallway or she would drop one on his hair as she walked past his desk to her own just behind him. Classmates would wonder amongst themselves about what it meant, but their answers would come when one or the other would appear at school with a new beau attached to their arm who would be drooling at the idea of dating one of East's elite. Few lasted beyond the first month, spouting incomprehensible reasons for why it wasn't working. He and Gabriella would assure each other it was simply not meant to happen. Their friends would claim it was because they deserved better anyway. The school would whisper and gossip, suggesting only to those willing to listen, that it was because of the kisses.

He was hers. She had heard that line so many times. People at school, girls who Gabriella genuinely liked and who she would repeatedly encourage to approach Troy- their crush of the moment- and do more than stutter in his presence, would stumble over themselves to vacate her presence while repeating that line. It had been Kelsi who had once joked that no one wanted to deal with Gabriella's wrath by taking her boy. She had always seen it as a joke. A pointed comment at their closeness.

He was her best friend who threatened older boyfriends when he knew Ryan held no hope in instilling fear in the leather-wearing, motorcycle toting, frat boys who frequently graced their front doorstep during Gabriella's freshman year when her parents refused to give her and Sharpay their own credit cards and her sulking had, in fact, been an outright rebellion. He was there when said boys broke her heart to screw sorority girls on campus or when boys at their school got jealous of sharing her with the school basketball stars. He had held her hair the first time she got so utterly trashed that she passed out in the bathroom and spent the three hours after being revived, puking up tequila and orange juice in Zeke's toilet. He helped her buy Christmas presents and birthday presents. He took her step-dad to the car lot and pointed out the shiny silver Benz that she had been admiring since Sharpay and Ryan's sweet sixteens hinted at what was to come to her in turn. He was hers.

A part of her remained mad at Sharpay. There was no sister rule against dating friends and no rule about finding a way to read your sister's mind and realize she was confused about the boy between both of them. There was no rule that said Sharpay had broken one by pursuing someone Gabriella had never considered that way. Still, Gabriella wanted to find the manual that dictated what was alright and slap it down in Sharpay's lap and point out something, anything, that indicated it was her fault. He had been hers. Even if she hadn't known until he confessed. Even if she had taken it for granted and never questioned the possibility of it not remaining the same for the rest of their lives. He had been hers and Sharpay had taken him.

The other part of her recalled how his lips felt that night, in the dark, as the fairy lights danced and he poured out his heart. She knew it was her fault. She had run. He had told her that he loved her and she had run. He had changed everything and yet, on the surface to those watching, everything was the same. Troy had kissed her with fire and passion and life and desire. She had tasted hope and longing on his tongue and although her head still argued with her heart over what it wanted and what was right, Gabriella wanted to feel the way she had that night before Reason ruined them. She wanted to be kissed like there was nothing on earth to stop them. Like hot lightening scorching the earth and roses ripping skin with their lethal thorns. She wanted fire and ice, the sun and the moon. She wanted everything he had promised her.

But he wasn't hers anymore. She repeated that line to herself each time he caught her eye in class or each time he drove her and Sharpay home and she stared at his reflection in the rearview mirror while Sharpay sat up front and held his hand. Each time she felt the burning fire in her heart, she caught herself from calling him back. He wasn't hers. The kisses could continue and the pull on the thread between them could grow as taut as it wanted without snapping, but it wasn't innocent anymore. Every action had a reaction; a thought in the back of her mind that called her a traitor to those she loved. Yet her heart, the rebellious organ pounding in her chest every time their skin touched, called to be heard. It asked for a chance and Gabriella did the only thing she could think of and tried to slam down the thoughts that grew with intensity and opted to avoid him.

It was killing her.

* * *

Late afternoon sun streamed in through the kitchen doors that led to the back garden and speckled the floor with dancing patterns and shadows. The house was quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Ryan and Kelsi had driven to the country club to play a round of golf and to use the music studio in private, while Sharpay had retired to her room to shower after spending an afternoon beside the pool with her French text book and the pre-test she had come daringly close to failing the day before. The floors were cool as Gabriella searched the kitchen for a snack during a break from her chemistry homework. The muted sound of music wafted through the door of Sharpay's room and drifted downwards to where Gabriella leaned against the countertops with a cup of yogurt in hand as she lazily spooned it into her mouth.

Her gaze focused lightly on the flower boxes resting just outside the door as she mentally listed the assignments she had managed to complete and the ones left to tackle over the remaining hours of the weekend. She tried not to listen to her brain as it told her that the only reason she had gotten so much done with heaps of time remaining between the weekend and their deadlines was because she had time to fill. Troy time. Sharpay time. Chad time. For someone with an image of the perfect, plasticized, teen pop-star portrayal of the 'It' life, she sure had a lot of time on her hands. She tried to ignore the voice that told her that she was purposely dragging out her chem assignment because there was little else for her to do. She had become an expert at convincing herself and those around her that she was busy. Occupied. Not hiding. Gabriella was so deep in thought, fighting against admitting to even the smallest accusation, that she didn't hear the garage door rumble from the west side of the house or hear the steps of someone heavier than her brother race the steps to the main floor. His shadow didn't even catch her attention, but she jumped at his voice.

"Hey."

Her heart began to race as the air around them changed. Particles became charged, molecules altered their inner formations. Time froze and sped up at the same time. Her yogurt hit the floor as it slid from her sweaty fingers and the spoon dangled from her slack grip. It physically became hard to breathe. Looking at him should have been difficult. Impossible. But instead it was like a magnet being put to the fridge; her head snapped up to find his piercing gaze burning through her.

"Hey."

The unsteady smile dropped from his face and his shoulders slumped upon realizing that she had no intention of stepping towards him. Of throwing herself into his grasp like she used to. Of breaking into a smile that could light up a blackened city and that shot him full of electricity every time she turned it in his direction. He nervously shifted his stance, wanting to bolt in an effort to break the tension but unwilling to leave her presence. Or unable to. Either way, he showed no attempt to move from the doorway and follow the hallway to the stairs and the third floor.

"You're here to see her?" Gabriella asked, her eyes never blinking. Never leaving his. Her voice never wavering or breaking. Her stomach churned and she regretted the yogurt or food in general.

"Yeah." He couldn't lie to her. Never could. He could glibly tell lies to everyone else, but never her. Lying to her would be the final straw, something she would never forgive him for.

"She's upstairs." She stumbled then, her words blurring as she tried to choke them out. Her heart screamed in fury at how fast she caved and gave in.

"And you're right in front of me."

A shaky hand placed the spoon on the countertop, silently cursing her for ridding herself of the one thing that could occupy her hands and their numbness as all the blood rushed from her face. She couldn't look away, no matter what her brain screamed at her, and he took it as a sign. She was faltering. Before she would have stormed off but she was weakening. She wanted to give in and he knew it by looking past the pools of ink of her pupils and searching her soul. She was on the verge and he stepped forward, knowing she had no choice but to step closer.

"I can't do this anymore," she gasped, his hand reaching across the minimized space and his fingers trailing up her golden skin. "It's like I can't breathe."

"I know the feeling," he whispered, savouring the feeling of having her in his presence after a week of avoidance. A week of withdrawing from his life. "Please don't leave me. You can't leave me."

"I-," she gulped and the tears swam in her eyes as both his hands glided down her arms so lightly that she had to lean into him to know it was real. "You-," she shook her head, ripping her gaze away to find something that wasn't him. She couldn't block him out. Every touch, every word; it pulled at her heart and froze her against escape. "I can't. I can't and it's destroying _everything_."

"Ella, you're my air. My life. My whole heart belongs to you." She tried to pull away and his stronger hands gripped her close, pulling her within inches of his chest so she could feel the pounding of his heart and feel the vibrations in his arms as he tried to maintain the faked steadiness. "Just tell me _why._"

Her knees felt weak as he braced himself against the ridge of the counter and kept her from collapsing against the weight of her conscience. Gazing down, he felt his heart tear at the sight of teardrops marring her creamy cheeks. His fingers dug into her flesh as he fought to keep her close, refusing to let go until he had to. She looked up at him, concentration on her face as her internal battle waged into another stage that would deepen the scars on her heart. His chest heaved in anticipation, unsure of what to expect or how to react to any scenario he had considered during the last six months.

"Because I love her and she loves you. Because if I choose you, I lose her. Because I may not be in love with you, even if you're in love with me." She stared imploringly at him, seeing as each thought hit like a bullet to his brain. "Because it could be for nothing and we could all lose everything."

"Or it could be everything we ever wanted," he insisted, gripping her elbows and begging with the shakes he inflicted for no purpose but to enforce his need for her. "It could be something from our dreams, Ella."

"You're asking me to shatter her fairytale. You're asking me to betray her," Gabriella retorted, the first sign of anger she had shown him all afternoon and it came as a slap to his face to know she still harboured anger and resentment. For a second, cocooned in the stillness of the mansion and its walls, he had forgotten that she had been hurt too.

"I'm asking you for-," his voice broke off at the sound of vibrations on the stairs and they both noted how the music from upstairs was clearer than the moments before.

Horror filled her gaze as her struggles against his hold intensified but his release was delayed and when the footsteps halted, they both battled to hide their emotions from the girl at the door. Her blonde hair was soft from the shower and the plush sweat pants that hung low on her hips invited the eyes to her toned abdomen, but Troy and Gabriella were watching her face as it shifted from surprise to something brief but unknown. Gabriella's breath hitched as she saw her sister's eyes darken as they skimmed over the two people in front of her.

"Hey," Gabriella greeted her, licking dry lips and resting her top teeth in the plumpness of her bottom lip. She didn't see the look Troy gave her, his eyes settling on her mouth while Sharpay watched, but she saw the momentary crease of confusion between her eyebrows before her gaze left Gabriella and shifted to Troy.

"Hi," Sharpay replied, her answer clipped as she inspected her boyfriend. Nothing seemed out of place but the air felt heavy and tense. It was like entering a room that was set for a surprise party and guessing that something was off but not being able to pinpoint it until everyone jumped out and yelled at you. Her eyes flicked back to Gabriella for a moment; returning to Troy whose eyes had returned to her face. "I didn't know you were here."

"Just got in and thought I would grab snacks from in here before surprising you," Troy offered, his voice light and Gabriella hoped Sharpay didn't notice her wince at the lie that slid so easily from his tongue.

"You said you'd call when you parked. I would have come and met you at the door." She could feel something and it was confirmed as a look passed between Troy and Gabriella for the hundredth time since she appeared in the doorway to see them pushing away from the other.

"Pay, I was just talking to Ella. You wanted to watch a movie, right?" he asked, stepping towards her as she unconsciously stepped back.

"Yeah, it's upstairs," she answered, hesitating over her words because she was so sure there was something missing. Something just out of her reach that they had managed to hide from her.

"Go grab it and I will meet you in the rec room with drinks and snacks," he urged, fixing a soft smile on his face that was the only genuine thing he could give her at the moment.

Nodding, she slowly left the room, shooting one last look behind her before climbing the stairs to retrieve the movie. Left behind, the silence thundering in her ears as the panic receded and the rational side took over, Gabriella turned to glare at Troy who looked as guilty as she felt. He watched the doorway as if it hurt to acknowledge the truth. Lifting his head, he met the cold gaze of Gabriella's dark eyes.

"That was your answer right there," she told him, her voice low and void of emotion. "You're not mine and I'm not yours. Get your snacks and go."

He nodded at her demand, limbs heavy as he took glasses and bowl from the cupboards, filling both with whatever he could find in his dazed state. He was fracturing at his core, hearing her leave but unable to watch her go. They had been so close. Were so close. But there was always Sharpay between them. Reason got in the way.

Sighing, Troy left the kitchen behind; the ghosts of the precious past moments keeping him company.


	8. Chapter Seven

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

The day he found out she was leaving for Oregon was the day that Troy truly understood how fully he had fucked up. They hadn't spoken in the six days and fourteen hours since she had slammed the door on the vision of his naked body in bed with her sister and run. He had chased after her, pulling on his pants as he tried to stumble out of Sharpay's room, until he reached the driveway where her shaking, sobbing figure had backed away from him. She had screamed and yelled, pleading with him to explain himself. Begging him to tell her that the night before had been a mistake and it had been Sharpay he had wanted. She needed him to tell her that he had lied to her; that he had never loved her and therefore couldn't have betrayed her in such a way. He couldn't lie and she had turned towards the approaching vehicle and yanked open Chad's passenger side door. He hadn't followed her then, feeling the backlash of his actions as he saw who she turned to without him as an option.

Troy had watched the car back down the winding driveway, his mind trying to piece together what it all meant, but failing as Sharpay had called to him from the front door. She hadn't heard a word between him and the broken, fleeing figure. Instead, she smiled softly and beckoned for him with one pale hand. He followed; having every intention to talk it over with her. Explain that he didn't feel that way and it had been the moment, the need, his own stupid response to wanting to be wanted. It never came as he watched her bounce around the kitchen preparing a breakfast he couldn't eat in a house he couldn't stay in. The proximity to Sharpay was sickening as he saw what he had done. She didn't have her sister's strength or resilience. She would break if he told her the truth and therefore Troy held it locked on his tongue, at the back of his brain, as he waited for the right time to come when he could gently tell her it was never going to happen again.

Six days and fourteen hours passed without a word from Gabriella. Chad dropped her off and hauled a still present Troy into the study where yelling and accusations followed, but still, Gabriella refused to face him. She ignored his texts and let his calls go to voicemail. He refused to call the house phone and risk Sharpay picking up, so he was left waiting for her to come to him. The last week of May ended and finals began. She would enter a room with seconds to go before the examination was to start and leave well before Troy had the chance to finish and rush to intercept her in the hallway. She avoided the cafeteria and she refused to drive with him. But, he had thought, she would come around.

He found out just after their physics final; when he joined their friends by his locker and noticed her absence. Chad and Taylor had looked guilty while Sharpay looked mad. Repeating his question, Ryan stepped forward to tell him that she had left to have her car inspected by the mechanic before taking it on the road. It had hit Troy like a blow to the stomach, twisting his guts and sending ice down his spine. She was going to spend the summer with her father; a split second decision the night before that Mr. and Mrs. Evans argued against for hours before giving in. She hadn't seen her father in two years, with the exception of two days when he had been in town on business, and Troy knew that no matter what she had fed her parents, the trip was an escape. An excuse. A reason to leave him behind and try to forget what had happened in her house. The sanctuary that he had tainted.

Finding her hadn't been difficult. After dropping Sharpay, Ryan off at Kelsi's to piece together something Kelsi was working on, he had turned into the overpriced neighbourhood and punched in the keycode he had been given years ago. She was sitting on the swing in the gazebo, gently rocking as she examined a map of the highway system between Albuquerque and Portland where her father and stepmother lived. She flinched at the sound of his approaching footsteps but she never looked up as he sat beside her. The paper had been clenched tightly in her fingers, as if she needed something solid to hold her together, and she had ripped her hands away when he tried to take it from her.

The begging and pleading reversed and he was the one trying to convince her to stay. He was the one trying to keep her in one spot and demanding that she not do this to them and leave for the next three months. He needed her to tell him what to do. How to let Sharpay go without having her hate him. He wanted her close and within reach. He was being selfish, she told him. She had thrown away the map and stood, pacing across the grass where she knew he would follow. He had crushed her to him and she had pushed him away. He got it then. That he had royally fucked up beyond hope. But he was desperate and thought she had the answers. She didn't, never would, because he had thrown what she had known away.

He had left her there, standing by the fish pond with the koi fish they had named when they were younger biting at the flies, as he walked back to his truck and climbed inside. That night, he turned off his phone and ignored his mother's call to dinner. He curled up with the photoframe of him, her and Sharpay and tried to find the answers within the depths of their young eyes. Surely, there could be redemption. Surely, someone could tell him the answer. But all of them hurt and when the next two weeks passed without more than three words from Gabriella, Troy learned that the answer was what had been facing him the whole time.

Summer had dragged on and Troy found himself turning to Sharpay in Gabriella's absence. It wasn't as a distraction, or it was never meant to be, but she had the precious lifeline to her sister and he needed it like a heroin addict needed a dealer. Sharpay was the one who told him that she made it to Oregon alive, with the car in one piece. She was the one that told him that she sounded happy and was spending time with her older stepbrother and it was Sharpay that helped him pick out a birthday present for Gabriella and ship it to her temporary home. It was she who initiated a kiss just after Gabriella's departure that made Troy wonder if he was simply asking for too much. Maybe Gabriella's refusal had been a sign that she wasn't the one for him. Maybe it was supposed to be Sharpay.

But Sharpay lacked the fire he craved and passion he desired. She was perfect in every way, but she was not the one his blood bubbled for or his mouth ran dry in the presence of. She was perfect, but she wasn't what he needed. He barely touched her, and rarely were they alone, but somehow they became an unspoken couple. In the end, his brain overruling his heart, he decided that the silence from the girl in another state was the sign he needed to move on.

Who would have known that moving on would invite such a giant step back?

* * *

The classroom was quiet as the handful of students who had arrived early waited for their friends to saunter in and class to commence. Seated halfway down the row on the far side of the room, Troy pretended to review his notes from the previous day's class while watching the dark haired figure seated two desks in front of him. Casually flipping a page to make his act believable, he noted as her fingers flew over the keys of her BlackBerry, spelling out a text to the unknown recipient. It made him desperate to know who could keep her attention for so long.

His eyes trailed over her face, the soft smile and easily amused face that seemed relaxed in his presence for more than mere seconds, and the tumbling curls that fell over one shoulder. Her shoulders were covered in a thin green cardigan that left his eyes hungry for more. One jean clad leg was crossed over the other, her booted feet taping to a rhythm in her head that pounded through the headphones from her ipod. Troy's eyes wondered if she knew he was watching; if she was as aware of his gaze as he was of hers. Her fingers continued to beat out answers, pausing only to read responses before smiling slightly and responding.

He frowned at the uneasy feeling uncurling in his belly as he watched her. He had noticed how relaxed she was, unguarded and open. The happiness in the moment was written on her profile as he studied her and the queasiness in his gut grew. She had been that way with him; holding nothing back and sliding into sync with his thoughts like pieces of the same puzzle. She was in love with him, he knew that, no matter what her head was telling her heart to protect it. He still had no idea how he could have done what he did, but he knew the only way to fix it. He just had to grow some balls and do it.

So lost in thought, Troy forgot to keep up his charade of studying and blinking, found himself staring directly into Gabriella's eyes as her hands clutched the phone in mid-type. Seconds passed and the room seemed to hush although no one really found anything out of place, and Troy felt suspended as for a split moment, she forgot to put up walls and bared her soul to him. The pain and the inner struggle slapped him mentally as he fought to hang onto a moment of the real Gabriella and not the shell of what she usually gave him. He glimpsed longing and desire, fire and heat, longing and the forbidden. She was crumbling, he realized. Her grip on promises slipping as need over rode what was right.

"Hoops, Dude," Chad called, interrupting the moment as he appeared through the doorway and took his seat between the two.

"Hey," Troy responded, voice clipped as he hastily looked for Gabriella again.

She had been torn from the passing seconds upon Chad's arrival and ducked her head to continue her texting with the outside world. Chad caught the quick, unsure smile and shot Troy a look between warning and questioning. Shrugging, Troy went back to flipping his notebook pages, but he was aware of how Chad kept shooting looks between the two before the bell rang and his attention was grabbed by the teacher at the front of the room.

It wasn't until after class that Troy scooped up his books in one arm and hurried to follow Chad and Gabriella out of the room. Dropping back, he kept up while remaining far enough behind to let them think he couldn't hear their conversation. Chad had one arm looped around his basketball and the other held Gabriella's bag as she spun the combination on her locker and dumped some things inside.

"So did you figure everything out with him?" Chad asked and Troy, five lockers down and engrossed in his ipod, felt his hearing capabilities escalate with anticipation.

"Yeah, everything is set. Is it mean that I'm looking forward to it?" she asked in return, leaning against her locker and rubbing a tired hand over her face.

"No, you deserve a break. I take it they are all going, then? Didn't they think it was weird you wanted to stay behind?" Chad handed her back her things as he opened his own locker and withdrew the binder for his study session with Taylor during the current free period.

"I just told mom that there is a lot going on, and Vance agreed that it was unnecessary for me to go since I saw the school when I was there this summer." Gabriella turned her back to Troy as Chad slammed both their lockers and began walking down the hallway.

"Does-," Chad stopped as he glanced behind them and realized that Troy was only a few steps behind and had probably heard the entire conversation. Clearing his throat, he looked down to see that Gabriella had followed his line of sight and looked slightly surprised and unnerved by Troy's appearance. "I'm supposed to meet Tay, but I can-." He stopped when she shook her head.

"It's okay, you can go," she assured him, turning so that her whole body faced Troy as Chad awkwardly waited an extra minute before taking off. Biting into her lower lip, Gabriella waited for Troy to make the first move.

He wasn't sure what to say. It was obvious he had been eavesdropping, but it wasn't like it had revealed much information. All he knew was that Gabriella wasn't going somewhere that she had already been and that her family was. Or that's what he had concluded. The awkward part was that he knew it meant so much more than that by the look of unease on her face. She shifted her books to her hip and glanced around the empty hallway before meeting his eyes again.

"Your parents are going on vacation?" he asked stupidly, closing the gap slowly to keep strangers out of their business.

"Business trip to Portland," she answered quietly, repeatedly stretching her fingers against the strap of her bag. "Next week sometime."

"You're not going, though," he responded, confirming the suspicions that were looming in his mind and that she was adding evidence to by the fidgeting.

"I'm staying here. Dad wanted me to, but with school it's just too-," she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Anyway, Phil said he would show Pay and Ryan around some of the campuses up there."

"She hasn't mentioned it yet," Troy mused, desperately trying to read Gabriella's face as her cheeks flushed. "That she was going or that she was interested."

"She only interested because I am," Gabriella snapped and instantly wanted to take it back as tears pricked her eyes. "I mean, she would never go if she was going by herself, but I mentioned it and she thought it might be worthwhile to check out." She shrugged self-consciously again. "Ryan just wants a week off of school."

The unspoken words and thoughts and realizations and possibilities flew between them. She would be alone. Sharpay would be miles away. Two separate thoughts and yet they met at the same point. They wouldn't have to be careful. No walls. No secrets. No eye signals or silent messages or minced words. Troy's heart soared as he caught the hidden dilemma in her eyes. She didn't want to tell him because that would be an invitation to break through, but she wanted him to know. They needed a chance to speak the truth. They needed to know what was there. They needed everything in the open. She needed him and he needed her.

"Let her tell you," Gabriella finally said, hitching the slipping strap of her bag higher in a hint to let it go for now. "It only got confirmed this morning. Phil text me."

"I'll wait," he told her, meaning for Sharpay to spring it on him.

"It's a long wait," she replied, meaning for the upcoming week to arrive and leave them alone.

"I promised to before, didn't I?" he reminded her, meaning he could wait forever if it meant redemption.

"You did, but you didn't mean it."

And although it wasn't the truth of his heart or his words, it was the truth of his actions.


	9. Chapter Eight

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

In retrospect, the first girl she could consider worthy of being called a best friend had been Tiara Gold when they were both four years old. Upon becoming acquainted with one another at the posh preschool in town, Tiara and Sharpay became inseparable. They had held tea parties and chased Tiara's cat around the gardens and forced Ryan to play house with them. Sharpay had been fascinated with her English accent and the way she got to dress up for the regularly scheduled tea-time she was always invited to participate in. When Mr. Gold packed the family up and carted them back to England after a year in the States, Sharpay had been heartbroken. There had been no warning to allow her father to break the news gently; one day Tiara was playing with her outside and the next day the shiny black Mercedes SUV failed to arrive at preschool. When it became evident to Sharpay that Tiara was not coming back-just like the mother she had no memory of- she picked herself up and went back to playing with Ryan. Yet, everyone noticed how she became a little more isolated and a little more reluctant to play with others. Sharpay Evans had decided that people needed to earn her trust instead of having it granted at first glance.

For awhile, there had been no more best friends. For sure, there were playdates, organized by the live-in nanny or their grandmother, but she never extended her friendliness past being polite. She kept to herself, wild and rebellious when with Ryan, but cold and chilly when others were introduced. Her father brought them home a Yorkshire puppy when she was five. It had wiry black and white fur and it had enjoyed eating milkbones from her hands and licking the crumbs from her fingertips. She had argued with Ryan until he conceded and agreed to call it Queenie despite it being a male. The puppy had followed her everywhere and even the neighbours had found delight in watching the little blond girl carefully lift him into a pink and flower deckled wagon to pull him around the circular driveway. Her father had grinned with pleasure to see her attach love to something again, only to feel his heart squeeze the day the maid called to tell him the puppy had escaped the front door and chased a bird down the walkway to the street where the chandelier installers were arriving to replace the fixture in Mrs. Van Hala's foyer. She remembered her father arriving home early that night and finding her sitting on her tiny purple bed, staring at the pink, rhinestone studded collar that her grandmother had let her buy the day before.

Then Gabriella had come. She had been quiet, yet obstinate when provoked. Her fiery temper had simmered near the surface and Sharpay had found herself a soulmate in the little girl who was just as mistrusting as she was. The first time they met, Sharpay had hauled her off to the playground because her father had ordered her to be nice, but by dinner time Sharpay had pushed her off a swing when she refused to give it up and Gabriella had returned the sentiment by dumping wet sand on her pretty blond waves. When their parents had arrived on the scene to sort out the problem, Gabriella had hissed and stomped her feet while emitting a stream of words that Sharpay could not follow but only gawk at. Ryan had stood at a distance, watching with his head slightly cocked, as Sharpay tried to keep herself at an arm's length. She didn't want to be friends with the angry little girl who was bitter at leaving her father behind in another state. She didn't want to be, but something caught her heart and drew her in. Gabriella became her best friend, and then she became her sister.

She once read in CosmoGirl that a best friend was the one person who knew you and liked you anyway. That despite all your faults, and every reason to be irritated as fuck, that one person still loved you because you felt the same way about them. Sharpay had thought about the validity of the statement over and over again as people joined their group and high school began. She thought about it when Gabriella dropped dance classes and piano and took up working on science fair projects and the debate team. She thought about it when Gabriella chopped all her hair off, making Sharpay feel like a little girl still make-believing that she could play the role of Repunzel. She thought about it when Gabriella's boobs began to blossom before hers, and again when hers kept growing and Gabriella's halted at a standstill. She definitely questioned it when she fell in love with Troy but couldn't bring herself to confess to her sister.

Gabriella was the one person that Sharpay knew well enough to compile a list of dislikes against and still be unable to live without her. She was passionate and steady, resilient and loyal, friendly and compassionate. Despite the bitterness that accompanied her to New Mexico and remained for the early months that Sharpay knew her, Gabriella took the years in stride as she settled into her life. She knew how to deal with obstacles and learn from them. She was strong and she adapted, making friends and growing. Sharpay was not Gabriella. Where Gabriella reached with unending faith, Sharpay held back.

When Maria bought them a kitten as a tool to see how well the children could work together and share, Sharpay had acted repulsed. She refused to touch it or help name it. She refused to pick out toys or have it sleep in her room. She always found an excuse not to play with it when everyone else did, but when she was alone and Trixie traipsed through the door that been left open, Sharpay would pet and coo at it without anyone being the wiser. In her young mind, she thought she was fooling them all. Gabriella knew better, but she let it be. When the cat had to be put down when they were ten, she had tried not to cry when Sharpay told her that everything would leave eventually. Inside, the little blond girl was heartbroken, but on the outside she refused to let people see she had been foolish enough to become attached again.

High school was a gauntlet of survival for her. She flirted and blew kisses, cheered on the flavour of the week at their various sports or contests, and let them take her for ice cream. They never lasted long. Lasting would mean commitment or attachment. Lasting would mean letting them in. She wouldn't let it happen and Gabriella would call her bluff each time the excuses were delivered. She called her weak and a coward. She labelled her as one of those girls that needed to know she was wanted but didn't know how to let it be real. Sharpay would listen as her sister dug into her soul and tossed her worst fears back in her face. She would tell her to take a risk. To know what it felt like to put something precious on the line and feel with all of herself. Gabriella wanted her to live with fire and consequence.

Sharpay had asked her once, after Troy had delivered her home from a party where her boyfriend at the time had dumped her for a sorority girl he had been chasing, why she did it. What made taking chances so appealing when she knew how they would end the majority of the time? Gabriella had told her there was no way to know if you had lived your life to its fullest if you couldn't look back and say 'I did that'. Sharpay hadn't understood at the time, instead shaking her head and calling her sister a glutton for drama and punishment.

It changed with Troy. In fact, she had realized later, it had changed before him but she hadn't seen it coming. That night at the party, when he found her and told her of her date's infidelity in the bedroom upstairs, Sharpay felt the universe stop. She ignored the drumming pain in her chest at losing the control in the relationship and instead gazed into Troy's face. She heard Gabriella's words echoing as she felt mesmerized by the concern in the depths of his blue eyes and she decided to take a chance. To let herself take a risk. To feel life as it should be felt. She was drawn to Troy and even as he left her at her home, she had followed his truck down the driveway with her eyes while absently touching her lips with her fingers.

It wasn't really a risk, her mind continued to tell her as the days turned into weeks and she began her wooing of Troy. It's not a chance if you know they won't hurt you. It's not a risk if you trust them. It's not the same if you choose the safe option; you may as well choose no option and sit back to observe, her brain screamed. She ignored it and with each glance, each hug and each joke, she let herself fall in love with him. He was her chance to prove to everyone that she could trust and have faith in someone after all. He was her denial and she relished in the castle she built for herself where he was the knight and she was the princess.

She had known he wouldn't hurt her. From the moment he appeared in her bedroom and attacked her body with his, she had given everything she had because she knew he wouldn't do it without meaning it. She knew he would be honest because they both had something to lose. She knew he would never betray her because he was who he was. And all the while, as her heart shed its rock walls and learned to trust, her brain was telling her it was wrong to trap him where he would never try to escape for fear of the pain it would cause. She hadn't meant it; nothing about her love was false, and yet there were times when she would read King Arthur or Romeo and Juliet, and wonder where that kind of fire was in her own relationship.

They found meaning in their risks, and all she could find was uncertainty and the fear of being left behind.

* * *

First class or no, Sharpay hated air planes. The seats were always uncomfortable and the humming engine mingling with the slight vibrations of outside turbulence created an instance where she could not sleep, read or text without feeling unsettled. The TV screens that were provided, along with a surplus of blockbusters, did nothing to help with the hours of boredom seeing as how she had most likely seen all of them and the tiny screens did little to make it enjoyable. Miserable and bored, she curled into her seat and glanced over at her brother who sat in the seat beside her.

His headphones were jammed over his ears and his hat was more lopsided than usual. He tapped a pencil out to the rhythm in his head as he jotted down notes and lyrics. A music assignment, Sharpay could guess, for his project on theory. Sighing, she opened her mouth to interrupt him, but then abruptly closed it again. Did he need to know? Should she tell him? Could he help? Could anyone? Her thoughts swirled around inside her head, a whirlpool of confused emotions and guilty realizations that she was afraid to admit out loud. Glancing back again, she found him staring into her eyes with a look of questioning on his face.

"You seem anxious," he told her as he removed the headphones and Sharpay furtively sought out her parents to see them sitting up near the front of the section and far enough away to be out of earshot. "Spill."

"I, um-," she bit the inside of her cheek and tried to decide how best to put her thoughts into words, "It's Troy. I think-," again she hesitated to let the words manifest. "I think there's something wrong."

"With Troy?" Ryan let his eyebrows rise towards his hairline, unsure what had seeded uncertainty in her heart after all this time. "Did he say something?"

She didn't answer, instead turning her head to look out the window at the starry night. Had he said something? She felt he had, in some way that made her brain stumble to piece it together. Yet, she told herself before turning back to Ryan, it wasn't the words he had said but the actions that went with it. His hand had rubbed the back of his neck and he had stood as if ready to tense and run. His tone had held a key of insistency and it had been that that told her he was trying to tell her something. Something he couldn't put to words. She had felt her heart pound against her ribs, its beat speeding up until she felt she would explode and in the end he had kissed her on the forehead. Not the cheek or the lips, but the forehead. Where he usually kissed Gabriella. He hadn't told her to miss him or call, just to have fun. There was something missing.

"Come on, Pay, did he do something to make you think that there's something wrong?" Again, she didn't answer him and he pressed further. "Did Ella say something?"

"No," Sharpay whispered, resting her cheek against the vinyl of the seat. "She never says anything anymore. We talk about teachers and homework and committees. We talk about Mom and Daddy, you and Kelsi. We talk about clothes and shoes and what to wear to school the next day but none of it is about Troy anymore."

"Maybe she feels caught in the middle," Ryan suggested softly. "She's his best friend and you're her sister. Perhaps it's nothing more than her making sure you talk to each other instead of going through her."

"It's not," Sharpay replied, shaking her head so that her hair loosened from the elastic holding it up in a bouncy ponytail. "I thought that too, but she doesn't even mention him when she talks about everyone else and she changes the subject when I bring him up. It's like he's become taboo for us. Homecoming is in two weeks and she told me to go shopping with Taylor or Kelsi because she'd be busy, but then I heard her tell Chad that she wasn't going. I asked her about it and she just said she finds it boring after being on Homecoming court for two years." Sharpay held her breath before letting it out in a shaky gasp. "But it's not just Ella. Troy hasn't bought us tickets yet and he keeps saying he forgot. And then, last night-," she stopped, closing her eyes as the words swam in her head.

"Last night? What happened last night?" Ryan asked, unaware that Troy had even been in the house.

"He didn't come in," she whispered, the tears finally in her eyes, "He stood outside and told me he just stopped by to say goodbye. It was early and he wouldn't come in."

Something was horribly wrong with her fairytale. The prince was supposed to smile and bid the princess farewell with a romantic gesture and tell her how much he would miss her during her week excursion. He was supposed to ask for details and act jealous or lost or inquire after boys. He was supposed to do something that showed he wanted her to come back and not marry a foreign baron and forget his existence. Where was his gallant effort? Where was the emotion? She knew that deep down, this wasn't the first warning, but still Sharpay felt the walls of her castle crumbling and for the life of her, she couldn't find where the cracks had originated from.

"He said I should use this trip and any other ones as a way to consider my options," she said in a voice so low that Ryan had to fill in a few words on his own to get the whole idea. "He said that graduation would bring a lot of changes and I should start considering my options and what I really wanted. Ry, he kept saying 'you should'. Not 'we' or 'us', but just 'you'. Like he doesn't plan to be included or a part of it."

"College is a big deal, Pay. You know he wants to stay around here, maybe he just wants you to know that you don't have to as well. You have the means to go anywhere and come next year, that decision will be the start of your life." Ryan looked at her, seeing the struggle on her features as she tried to pinpoint exactly what she found wrong with Troy's use of pronouns.

"But you and Kelsi are talking about it, right?" She turned to look at him and saw the slightly guilty nod as he saw her point. "You're going to make your own decisions but she's part of it. You'll think of her when it comes to a final choice. You'll pick what's best for you and her, if it's possible. Troy's not. It's like he's using this trip as a way to point out how far apart we'll be. And it doesn't seem to bother him. All summer, he asked about Gabriella and Oregon and talked about how far it was, but with me, he's not. He didn't even say he'd miss me. Just to have fun."

"He knows you're coming back," Ryan pointed out gently but he was a guy and guy's had their own way of showing emotions. Troy was showing her, just not in a way she could understand immediately. It made Ryan uneasy. "When Ella left, he thought it was his fault. Guilt is a hard thing to bear, Pay, so maybe this is how he usually reacts."

"We passed him on the way to airport," she said suddenly after a moment of contemplation. Her lip looked red from being bitten and her skin was pale. "We passed him just before we hit the gates at the main entrance."

"Pay, that could have been anyone. It was dark and there are bushes that mark the middle of the boulevard. He drives a truck; so do a lot of other people." Ryan was trying to sooth his sister's mind, knowing it would eat her the entire time they were away otherwise, but the evidence was building that something was up with her boyfriend and Ryan hated the suspicion that she had passed on to him. Seeing her shake her head, he sighed.

"It was him. I'd know that truck anywhere. Why would he go to our house after he knew we were gone? Why wouldn't he just come to say goodbye and then hang out with Ella? Why avoid me before I left?" Because that's what her faith wanted her believing. That he wanted time with his best friend. But it begged the question of why would he hide it?

"I don't know, Pay," Ryan sighed, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. "Maybe you need to ask him. When he calls, just ask him."

Sharpay glanced at the phone in her hand that had been gripped there ever since they had been checked through security. Wait until he called. She could call and ask. But her instincts were screaming to wait for him. Let him prove he cared when he called later. Let him tell her how he had gotten the times mixed up and had thought to catch her. Wait to see if he came through.

He wouldn't. In Albuquerque, thousands of miles away, her prince's phone lay on the front seat of his truck as it sat parked in the winding, circular driveway of the Evans' mansion. Its screen lit the tattered fabric of the interior as its most recent text message gleamed in the eerie light.

_She's gone._


	10. Chapter Nine

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Once, when they were young, Gabriella had held a passing fondness for capturing bugs in plastic containers with magnifying glasses attached to the covers, that her mother had bought from Wal-Mart. She and Troy would spend hours chasing butterflies and grasshoppers through the lawns, releasing them once the glory of the chase was over. Sharpay and Ryan had watched from the side, Ryan looking slightly uncomfortable at Troy's ease with which he moved and Sharpay complaining that it was utterly undignified for Gabriella to traipse around in the dirt. Only once did Gabriella maim one of her prisoners, pulling a wing from a butterfly's body as she tried to coax it off a flower. She had cried, she remembered, and Troy had been flustered because he didn't understand. The guilt lasted mere hours, eating at her and ruining the fun that had sparked their afternoon, while Troy and her mother tried to convince her that she was not a murderer. Her young mind eventually pushed the thoughts away, but sometimes it came creeping back and Gabriella was forced to see how people could be cruel without the intent to be.

Sharpay was a butterfly. Troy even called her that from time to time, recalling his childhood nickname for her. She was bright and airy, dancing from place to place as she lived out the dream that was a lie. The world wasn't full of flowers and the dangers to her were the same ones who had trapped the dying butterfly accidently killed by a child years ago. Gabriella would watch as she printed pictures off her camera to display on Facebook or in frames scattered over the room, the faces smiling but the eyes telling who knew what lay beneath the illusion and who had fallen beneath its trap. She stood back as she watched how Sharpay awkwardly fumbled for her boyfriend's hand that he could not deny her, and she watched as she twirled in front of her mirror with the only intention in her head to make him want her. They had trapped her, Gabriella had realized in the weeks following her return to Albuquerque, just as they had trapped themselves. The difference that made her heart burn was that she and Troy were aware of the invisible cage they had wrought. Sharpay remained the butterfly, beating its wings against the glass without knowing what lay out of reach.

It hurt her to think about the consequences of their actions, knowing the faith Sharpay had invested in Troy without knowing the truth of his heart. It hurt that she had failed to see her sister's evolving affections towards someone that couldn't return them. It hurt that she was aware of how Troy was hurting her, and yet she could not bring herself to act. She couldn't tell Sharpay and lose Troy in the battle, and she couldn't betray Sharpay because that would make her more guilty than Troy. Troy's betrayal would hurt, but Gabriella's would kill her. She couldn't do that, even if it meant freeing them all from their glass prison.

In the days before she had run to Oregon, the Evans' house had become a cage to Gabriella. When she returned for school, it seemed that the bars had tightened even more. Sharpay became her jailer. She didn't want to resent her, because despite her naivety, none of their actions were directly Sharpay's fault. Gabriella and Troy held that blame willingly as they served similar sentences. Yet, for Gabriella, it became more. She had fled to put distance between herself and Troy, telling her heart that it had been confused all along and that with time, things would settle back into place. She wanted to return home happy and fully restored to one piece. It was an impossible dream. Phonecalls from Sharpay and their friends would tell her how things were progressing, and despite the evidence that Troy was resisting her sister's persistence, Gabriella couldn't bring herself to call him and beg to end it and just wait for her. She wanted time to make things right, but in the end it was useless because Troy was bound to everything she was. So she returned home where she smiled in public and screamed in private. After spending three months independently deciding what was best for herself, Gabriella found herself growing increasingly frustrated with the walls that penned her in.

She wanted freedom and spontaneity. She wanted to forget what others may think and do things for herself. She wanted to know that her family would survive without her, and she without them. She wanted the passion and desire that Troy offered. She wanted strings severed so that she was just herself. She wanted to take a risk and feel the adrenaline pump recklessly through her veins.

She wanted out of her glass prison.

* * *

The cellphone snapped shut, the damage done and the consequences handed to fate. He would come, she had no doubt, but the looming possibilities writhed and squirmed as they circled her consciousness. Gabriella was no fool who would quickly blame hormones and the rush of the moment for what she was about to do, but the intensity of the air as she sucked in a breath to read the vibrating screen of her phone made her question her self control. Could she stop if they snapped? Could she push him off and lock him out? The doubt lingered in her gut as his reply sparked across her screen.

_5 minutes._

Her hands shook and she gripped the railing of the winding staircase, letting her knees collapse so that she rested on the fourth step. Wrapping her arms around her knees and squeezing, she kept her gaze steady as she watched the front door. She mentally stomped on the whirring thoughts that damned her as a traitor and a liar. Her fingertips whitened as she gripped her legs through the denim material and her breath hitched as the familiar silhouette appeared on the other side of the smoked glass panes in the door and she let out another shaky breath as the knob turned and he pushed the door open without warning.

She didn't say anything as she let her eyes trail unchecked over his body. The dark washed jeans hugged his hips and she caught a glimpse of his toned stomach as he lifted an arm to scratch the back of his head, sending his hair into further disarray. The sleeves of his white t-shirt were pushed up to his elbows and one hand still gripped the gilded doorknob. Her breath caught as he shut the door behind him, bringing his chin up to look into her eyes.

"I wasn't sure you'd call," he said quietly, taking a step forward but stopping in hesitation.

"But I was sure you'd come," she replied, holding her own against the emotion that threatened to overwhelm them both.

The air felt thick to her, pulsating like her heart as she watched conflict rule Troy's face. Here, in this place that held them without reigns, she knew they could succumb to anything they wanted and no one would know but their hearts. And maybe Chad if he dug deep enough into their souls. The barriers were gone, along with the fear of discovery. Heat radiated through her as his piercing stare burned into her and she felt her resolve crumbling, brick by brick, stone by stone, until it rested around her like fine dust. The muscle under his jaw twitched as he watched, his own will having been destroyed the moment her text had arrived in his inbox.

"So what do you want, Ella? I'm here, no questions asked and no expectations to be met except to hear you talk to me above a whisper," he pleaded, the pain etched on his face. "What do you want and I will give it to you."

"What I want?" she asked in a choked laugh. She shut her eyes and tipped her face to the vaulted ceiling. "You want to talk about what I want?"

"Ella, please." It was the way his voice broke on her name that caused her to look back at his face.

"I want to go back to that night outside when you said those things to me and tell you that I feel the same. That I'm confused and scared and unsure but that I feel it too." His eyes widened in shock but she continued. "But, then sometimes I want it to happen the way it did except that you would tell me that you were the one who was confused and it was Pay you wanted all along. Sometimes, I wish you were happy with her because then I wouldn't feel so torn."

"But then it would be your heart in pieces," he said with his voice laced in agony but soft.

"Don't you see," she insisted, her eyes flashing, "It's not about me. It's you and her and how I know you're unhappy and she would be too if she knew the truth. It's about you, Troy. It's always fucking you!"

"But that night-," he started and she silenced him with a look.

"That night my best friend who knew me better than anyone except maybe my family told me that he loved me. That night you turned everything I knew upside down because I hadn't seen it coming. You had hidden those feelings from me so well that I had no idea and that scared me, Troy. I was terrified that if I said the wrong thing I would lose you, yet I also knew if I said what I wanted to say nothing would ever be the same. And I left and the next day we fought about it and I thought I had ruined it. I wanted control and I took it, only to come home and find you with her!" Gabriella had lost the battle over her tears and they streamed unchecked down her cheeks as she lashed out with unbroken fury. "How could you?"

"She-," he sighed because he knew nothing would ever make sense. It didn't even make sense to him. Sometimes, he wished the same thing she did. "She was just there, Ella. It's wrong and perverted and painful to admit that what I did had such drastic effects, but that's the truth. She was there and I was so angry at you and your vague answers and feeling like you were slipping away that I just wanted to be as close as I could get. I thought if I talked to her, she would let something slip that would give me hope, but then she was right there and I knew how she felt and I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe I didn't need perfection and we could work. And then you found us and I knew I had been wrong because all I wanted was you."

The pain in his voice made his words raw and truthful. She knew he wasn't lying but it didn't lessen the hurt or the guilt. It didn't make it easier. Burying her head in her arms, she remained still and refused to look up when he took the seat behind her. She felt his hands hover in the air above her shoulders before settling and running his hands over them and down her back. She let go a shudder and the heat from his hands burned through the fabric of her sweatshirt.

"We really screwed up, didn't we?" she mused quietly, exhaustion making her limbs heavy as she savoured the feel of his hands as they slipped under the hem of her shirt and his thumbs massaged her lower back.

"No, this one is on me. I should have stopped it that morning, no matter how I knew things would turn out. It's just that-," he paused and she leaned her head back to catch a glimpse of his face.

"It's Pay," she answered for him. "And you knew what would happen."

"She trusted me and I violated it by using it to satisfy my own need. She'd never forgive me and it would haunt her, but it would be better than having you involved and forcing your hand." He sounded as tired as she felt, but she felt the determination and strength in his arms as they tightened around her.

"I love her," Gabriella started, biting her lip, "But I love you. You both own my heart and yet whatever we do, a part of it will be destroyed. So what do I do, Troy? What do we do?"

"You do what your heart tells you," he consoled, understanding where she was coming from and knowing the value she held to loyalty and promise. "Listen to it, and if it tells you to let me go, then I will agree to let you do it."

"I could never let you go, but I'm not sure how long I can last in this in-between place. Even this, the sneaking around and not telling her, feels so wrong. It's my heart or hers." She turned her cheek to rest on his knee and he felt the tears soak the fabric.

"Either way, I plan to end the lie," Troy told her and she looked at him sharply. "It's not fair, and I can't do it anymore. I just need some time so it doesn't come as a shock to her. I need her to see that's its best."

"Do you think she'll hate us? Or will she understand?" Gabriella asked softly and behind her, Troy sighed.

"I don't know, but we've spent months basing our decisions off how we think she will react and I'm tired of it, Ella," he murmured into her hair, inhaling the scent as if he were on his last breath.

That was the truth of it, really. They were both tired. Of the lies and the forced smiles. Of fighting the connection that had the ability to find them no matter where they were and bring them back together. Tired of fighting what they needed. Denying the connection between them was becoming harder and harder to do as Gabriella admitted that beneath the cloak of promises to her sister, she was in love with him too. Having fought that truth from emerging for months, it was near impossible to turn him away now.

* * *

Gabriella was yanked from uneasy dreams as she was lifted from her uncomfortable position on the steps. Arms of steel wrapped around her and she instinctly let her head rest under his chin as he carried her up the stairs. She wasn't sure how much time had passed since their conversation had lapsed into silence, leaving them both to their own thoughts and dilemmas, but somewhere between then and now she had fallen into a restless sleep haunted by twisted dreams and harsh realities.

Troy's steps evened out as he reached the landing, continuing down the hallway until he reached the door at the far end. Gabriella felt his hand unwind from her back, shifting so that her weight fell against his chest as he fumbled with the door handle until it sprung open. When he laid her down on her bed, she let her eyes snap open as her hand grasped his wrist. He looked down, his face a mixture of surprise and affection.

"You're tired. I'll come by tomorrow after work and we'll hang out. Watch a movie. Use the pool. Just like old times," he assured her, allowing himself a selfish moment to push the hair behind her ear as she looked up at him from the pillow. "Just sleep, 'kay?"

"There's no one here," she murmured, her eyelids feeling heavy as she fought the drowsiness.

"What?" he asked, his eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead in confusion. Her parents always arranged for someone to stay in the house when they were gone. "Where's the staff? Clara or Henry usually stay, why aren't they here?"

"I gave them the night off. I told mom that Taylor and Kelsi were staying over. She figured it would be fine for tonight since they will be here the rest of the week." Gabriella wasn't sure if it was the moment or the fact that they were alone or if her sleepy brain had simply lost all ability to control itself, but as she spoke, she let her thumb rub circles on the inside of his wrist.

"Ella, I shouldn't stay. It's-," he hesitated because he wanted to stay and anything else would be a lie.

"It's too late to call the girls," she pleaded, panic rising in her eyes at the thought of him leaving her in the huge house by herself. "Please, don't leave."

"El-," he began before she yanked viciously on his arm.

"No, I can't stay here! Please. We can go to your house if you want," she babbled, tired and panicky as both hands wrapped around his wrist to keep him in her room. She gasped for breath and his free arm came around her to crush her to his chest as he whispered in her ear.

"Shh, Ella. It's okay, I won't leave," he assured her, feeling her hands leave his hand to grip his shirt. "I'll stay, it's okay."

"Really?" she asked, the slightly disorientated glaze still in her eyes. "I shouldn't have assumed you'd want to. That was wrong," she whispered, turning her cheek to rest against his chest as his hand came up to run over her hair.

"No, it's fine. I was just surprised, that's all," he soothed, keeping his motions rhythmic as her heartbeat slowed beneath his touch. The continuous movement of his hands hid the shock of seeing how close she really was to breaking apart. The smallest things seemed to push her closer to the edge. "I want to stay."

The smile that crossed her face was the first real one he had seen in months and he returned it just as she reached one hand up to grip the back of his neck and pull him towards her. She paused when their faces were only centimetres apart and her eyes sought his for the slightest hint of denial or hesitation. Finding none, his eyes full of nothing but desire to comfort and protect as long as she needed it, she pressed her lips to his as the final drop of resistance fled her body.

They had kissed before. On the forehead and on the cheek. He liked to kiss the top of her head when he was teasing about her height and she liked to kiss the sensitive spot at the base of his neck between the shoulder blades. He had kissed the inside of her wrist and she had kissed the scar on his knee where she had shoved him out of the treehouse. And they had kissed on the lips that night last spring when the whole mess transpired. This was nothing like those. A bursting sun has less energy and fire than the kiss that Gabriella pressed against Troy's lips and the electricity that passed between them as he returned it could have lit a city. It spoke to love and lust, desire and passion, light and darkness, with the raw sense of the forbidden.

His fingers wound through her hair. His knee shifted so she could straddle his lap, her hands cupping his jaw and tilting it down towards her. She forgot where she was and he forgot why they were there. His hands left her hair and slithered down her shoulders until he gripped her upper arms hard enough to bruise. She gasped into his mouth, allowing enough room for him to gain access and with another wave of adrenaline, she launched all her energy into gripping the shirt on his chest as she tugged him even closer. She was terrified that at any moment he would disappear and prove a fantasy.

He was the first to break it, tumbling back off the bed as he fought to catch his breath. Her fingers grazed her swollen lips as her eyes widened in surprise and shock. Surprise at what she had done and shock at how it had felt. She wanted more. Seconds had barely passed and she craved more. Her blood raced and her heart pounded, her breath coming in gasps as sparks ripped up and down her arms. Gazing at him, she tried to read his expression but saw it riddled with confusion.

"Ella, that was-," he licked his lips, "I mean-."

"Shut up," she whispered harshly, her voice hoarse as she struggled with the words. "Just shut up and get over here."

"Are you-?" he started, but her fingers were already digging into his flesh as she hauled him closer. He pulled back. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything else in my life," she insisted, pressing her lips against his again before letting them trail to the V in his t-shirt and back as his lips peppered her jaw with kisses. "I want this. I want you. I want us."

"There's still-," he couldn't bring himself to say his girlfriend's name.

"Will there be an us? At some point, will it be us?" she ordered, pausing long enough to flash her eyes dangerously as he heaved for air. He nodded, unable to speak. "You promise?"

"With everything I have," he told her, the words strong and spoken without hesitation.

"That's all I need."

He kissed her first this time.


	11. Chapter Ten

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

She had entered their lives like a tornado. She tore everything apart and rebuilt it so that it shone, sparkly and new, erasing the darkness of their past and turning it to a memory instead of a nightmare. He would be forever grateful of the day his father brought her into their lives. He had been hesitant at first, slightly unsure how to act around this stranger whose mother came for dinner every second Thursday, but upon seeing Sharpay haul her by the hand to the playground, Ryan Evans knew that things would never be the same with Gabriella Montez in his life.

She became Sharpay's girly best friend and his confident when he needed level headed advice. She stood up for them when other kid's name-called or bullied, introduced them to people they would never have thought to befriend, and was smart enough to orchestrate cookie raids in the kitchen without getting caught. She shared her punishment with them without complaint, hid in his room during thunderstorms and knew all the buttons to push with Sharpay to calm her down during a rampage against their parents. She got him through the required sophomore and junior year math classes and backed him up when he dropped the bomb of considering Julliard for performing arts instead of Yale like his father wanted.

They were not America's stereotypical family. The Evans' children had been extremely young when their mother packed her bags and left one afternoon, never to be heard from again except for the one time a year after the event when a private investigator tracked her down and delivered divorce papers and a contract terminating her parental rights. She had signed off on everything without hesitation, never actually setting foot in Albuquerque to see how her now ex-husband and two-year-old children were handling life. The full-time nanny that Vance Evans hired, along with his mother who visited frequently, continuously fed the twins the same story as they grew old enough to ask why she didn't love them enough to stay. She loved them but hated Vance's dedication to his software business that was on the brink of making it big. Vance himself had expected for her to come crawling back when the stock pages of the Times labelled him one of the world's most successful businessmen. It never happened and life sped up as he was able to delegate work and spend time with his children as they entered preschool.

Vance met Maria Montez in Oregon during a training course for new employees. She had recently divorced her husband and was fighting for full custody of her daughter since her ex-husband was frequently away for military training, usually without much warning. They hit it off during the week long course he taught and six months later when her name appeared on a resume for a head department job opening in the Albuquerque office, Vance Evans decided there was no one else he would rather have fill the position. They began dating once she and Gabriella settled in the house he helped her find and when the time was right, three years later, he married her in a simple ceremony where their children ruined the wedding cake. Since then, Ryan and Sharpay had wormed their way into Maria's heart. Ryan preferred to think his mother was dead sometimes, than wrestle with the idea she had abandoned them, but Maria was the only mother figure he had ever known. They had even adopted Gabriella's last name to show their unity with one another. Montez-Evans. Sharpay had attached herself to the idea of family like ticks to human flesh.

It was different for Gabriella, he knew. Her father was very much alive and kicking up in Oregon. When they were younger, she spent weeks at a time up there during the year until she hit middle school and began protesting about leaving Ryan, Sharpay and Troy behind. Vance was her stepfather, although he was most likely closer to her than her own father, but Ryan knew that she fought with trying to reconcile the two older men in her life into something she was happy with. Her sudden interest in getting to know her other family last summer-her father having remarried and gained a stepson during her freshman year- surprised many in the Evans' household, but Ryan knew the motives behind it. Maybe not the gory details, but he knew it was an escape. He had been waiting for it since the moment Sharpay confided in him about her and Troy's sexcapades between the sheets.

Ryan was an observer. Many saw him as the shadow split between his two sisters who stole the light from anyone within a six mile radius, but his close friends and his sisters knew that his quiet personality went further than simply fading into the background. He chose his words carefully and let others work out their problems without getting involved. He'd rather sit and listen to the interaction around him than speak up just for the sake of appearing involved. He was the polar opposite to his twin, and shared few visible and flashy characteristics with Gabriella. By watching and by listening, Ryan learned a great deal during his junior year.

His sister was crushing on Troy Bolton. It wasn't completely ludicrous. Troy was the basketball captain and a decent athlete. He was attractive by all standards of the East High female population and he was funny and friendly. And he was around all the time. It would have been more odd for Sharpay to not feel something for him. However, Ryan felt wary as he watched his sister bat her eyes lashes and raise her skirt hems in an effort to catch his attention. When it didn't work immediately, Ryan wanted to congratulate the guy for being attracted by more than blonde hair and appreciative curves-something that Ryan was sick of hearing described in the guys' lockerroom- but as the weeks wore on and Sharpay became increasingly frustrated with her lack of progress, Ryan felt something in his gut that said to look closer.

At first, he thought it was the obvious answer. Troy didn't feel that way for Sharpay. As much as her crush was a logical occurrence, so too was Troy's opposite reaction. They had grown up together. He had protected her from boys with not-so-honourable intentions and driven her home when her convertible was in the shop. He went shopping with her and Gabriella, holding their bags just as Ryan held Kelsi's and Chad held Taylor's. It was entirely plausible, Ryan insisted to his sister when she was growing increasingly self conscious about Troy's lack of interest, that he just didn't see her that way. She had mulled it over and to Ryan, it seemed that she stepped back and let things fall back into place. She was less insistent for nights out and there were less morning freakouts over what to wear. As the school year wore on, Ryan had hoped she would move on and find someone who returned her affection.

And then he learned about Troy's argument with Gabriella and his subsequent seduction of his twin sister. Some guys would have been angry or claimed that Troy had carelessly stolen Sharpay's innocence, but Ryan wasn't most guys. He had grown up with Troy and knew, despite his confusion over the change in events, he would understand the consequences. To Ryan, it was obvious in the weeks that followed as Sharpay bit her lip and wondered how to process the events and as Troy wandered around, hopelessly lost in his own world, that it had been impulsive and spontaneous. Raging hormones had collided and burned out on the bed. Yet, it was Gabriella's sudden withdrawal and declaration of a vacation to Oregon that had Ryan wondering if she knew something the rest of them had missed.

Upon the arrival of summer, Troy's calls to Sharpay increased and her smile grew brighter and Ryan honestly tried to convince himself that maybe there was something there. Maybe Troy had finally woken up and seen what Sharpay swore she saw happening between them. To Ryan, it seemed that despite their growing inability to be separated, the touches between them seemed too quick and their kisses appeared too infrequent. There was something missing, despite how desperately Troy tried to plaster a smile on his face and despite how Sharpay chattered about her perfect fairytale. And then, after running away didn't solve her dilemma, Gabriella returned home and Ryan understood the problem.

She couldn't stand to see them together. Whether it was because she harboured her own feelings or because she was jealous of her sister monopolizing her best friend's time and vice versa, Ryan was not blind to the stolen glances she sent the couple. Sometimes they were laced with sadness and pain and others held resentment that Ryan had never seen her possess. Her words were clipped and simple, void of emotion. Her face became unreadable to those around her, but Ryan saw through it. Something about Troy and Sharpay didn't sit well with his stepsister and he trusted that she would never feel that way without a valid reason.

Having heard Sharpay's concerns, and the panic in her voice at the thought of someone like Troy slipping through her fingers, Ryan's unsettled feelings towards their relationship returned. Could it be that Troy no longer felt like it was working? Had he mistaken a moment of lust for something more pure or meaningful? Had he simply realized she wasn't the one? Or was it rather that he hated seeing Gabriella in pain and so chose to sacrifice one sister for the other? If that was the case, Ryan was unsure how to reconcile his thoughts on the matter.

Was it one sister over the other? Or was it simply the fallout of consequences no one could have foreseen?

* * *

He hadn't called. That fact, the same one continuously thrown in his face during the last four days, was clear the moment Ryan knocked on the door that joined his hotel room to Sharpay's in Oregon. After he didn't call the night they flew out of Albuquerque, Ryan had suggested that perhaps Troy had gone to Gabriella's with Chad and the guys to join Taylor and Kelsi in their movie night and sleepover. Sharpay had looked placated but dejected and Ryan didn't tell her the next morning how Kelsi had called to ask if they had landed and mentioned that she hadn't been invited to the Evans' mansion for a movie night. For the time being, Ryan left well enough alone. Troy was Gabriella's best friend and if he wanted to spend time with her where they wouldn't be obligated to include Sharpay, then so be it. For a whole day, Sharpay had not spoken a word about the lack of communication from her boyfriend. She shopped and toured the city while her father and step-mother ran meetings. She had the hotel hook up the internet to her laptop and Google-mapped all the places she had seen to see their relation to the universities in the area. Then came dinner and then a movie purchased through room service and still no phone call.

It didn't come the next day either, although Gabriella's call had offered a vague explanation about a West vs. North basketball game and homework. Ryan didn't ask, but he noticed how Sharpay appeared visibly unnerved after hanging up the phone that night. The next day offered no Troy Bolton and Ryan found himself growing increasingly irritated with his friend. Now, standing at the door dressed in a grey suit and holding tickets to the symphony that his step-mother had managed to fandangle at the last minute, Ryan could see the lost hope in Sharpay's eyes as she desperately clicked through the missed calls icon on her phone. Her clutch sat on the bed, opened with her lip gloss rolling across the comforter, and her shoes with the skinny straps lay tangled on the floor.

"You ready?" he asked, seeing how his question had startled her from the quiet.

"Um, yeah," she replied quietly, throwing one more hopeful glance at her phone before tossing it in her bag and slipping into her shoes. "Let's go."

They slipped out of her room, meeting their parents at the elevator and travelling downwards without more than mere pleasantries exchanged. They walked quietly through the lobby, the chandelier tinkling above their heads and the din from the lounge muted so that only a few glasses clinking could be heard. Their father guided them to the hired Lincoln Escalade at the curb and Ryan waited as Sharpay slid across the back seat to make room for him to take the seat beside her. More than once on the way to the conservatory, Ryan caught the neon glow of her cell phone as she checked for calls and texts.

Ironically, just as Ryan restrained a sigh of frustration at Troy's absence and Sharpay's clinginess, his own cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Fishing it out, he clicked it open to see Kelsi's face above the message: _You know where I could find Ella tonight?_

Fingers flying across the screen, Ryan slouched against the door of the car, ignoring the look that Sharpay sent him. _Home?_ He typed. _Or maybe Chad's for a study session?_

The response came a few seconds later and Ryan couldn't help the line that formed between his eyebrows. Across from him, Sharpay's eyes narrowed in suspicion, curious as to what had her brother looking so confused when math class was miles away. _Chad hasn't seen her since school ended. She's not answering her phone but the housekeeper at your house said she was home and then left just after dinner. It's not a big deal. I just wanted to talk to her about Homecoming._

The answer was so simple and yet something about it gnawed at Ryan's stomach, causing it to tighten and him to feel slightly nauseas. It was so clear and predictable, and still he felt like he was committing a crime as he typed out his last answer and possible suggestion. His fingers lost their fluidity from moments earlier and he clumsily finished his message before hitting send. It glared at him, its blue-white background bright against the blackness of the letters and the darkness surrounding him. _Try Troy's_.

Snapping the phone shut as the vehicle glided up to the curb at their destination, Ryan pushed open the door and slithered out before helping his sister down. She stared at him, her gaze even given the heels on her feet. She searched his eyes, unable to read the answer clearly but knowing that something had disturbed him. Maybe a drunk message from Kelsi? Or Martha Cox had passed her Strep throat on to the entire cast of the fall musical.

"What was that about? Kelsi looking for a night time rendezvous through cell satellites?" she asked crankily, her excitement at being away from school overridden by her warring thoughts on her relationship with Troy.

"No," Ryan answered, laughing awkwardly as his father shot a smirk over his step-mother's head at him. "She was looking for Ella. Something about Homecoming."

"Did you tell her to try Chad's? She's always there these days." Sharpay's voice bordered on waspish although Ryan doubted she noticed or intended it to be that way.

"Yeah, I did. Maybe she just went running or stayed late at the library," Ryan said with a shrug, holding the door open as his parents and sister stepped into the entrance to hand over their tickets.

"Or she's at Troy's," she snapped, lowering her voice so that her parents and the guests around them were not included. "I can see them now, with their phones turned off while she tutors him in chemistry, ignoring the world around them like they used to."

"Pay," Ryan warned, his tone telling her that she was on precarious ground, no matter how angry she was. "I know you're mad at him, but don't get Ella involved."

"Why not?" Sharpay hissed, looking around to see that no one in the auditorium was paying her any attention. It was a common occurrence lately. "I tell her that I don't care that they spend time together and she says it's awkward, but the moment I'm gone, he's at our house hanging out like nothing ever happened."

"They are best friends, Pay. Of course she doesn't want to hear you dissect your relationship with him or ask her opinion on which skirt will get you some in his truck that night. If I don't want to hear it, what makes you think Gabriella would? Be fair," he insisted, "Would you expect her to have him over to watch a movie and just leave you upstairs? No. This is a chance for them to spend time together. And yeah, maybe they ignore the world when they're together, but how can you tell her you want things to be normal and then resent what she has with Troy?"

Sharpay bit her lip and looked away, furiously dashing at the spot under her eye with one tense hand. The other clenched and unclenched around her clutch and she shifted uncomfortably in the seat as others filed down the aisles around them. Ryan watched her with a frown and realized that her insecurities were not new as he had presumed during their talk on the plane. She had known for awhile. She had felt the cracks that widened when Troy put his own feelings-or lack thereof- into words. He was giving her proof to add to her own doubts and Ryan had a sinking feeling that Sharpay wasn't far off on her prediction that something was wrong with the situation at home. Something had been off for awhile, Ryan suspected, and she was only now digging her head out of the sand and admitting it to herself.

"Pay?" he asked hesitantly.

"You didn't mean to, but you've just said what I've been thinking since the night before we left," she whispered. "What she has with Troy. I don't have that. I'll never have that."

Ryan had no answer for her and yet, in a way, it was the answer she needed. She needed to know it wasn't all in her head. Looking away as the lights around them dimmed and the symphony struck up the first few chords, Ryan saw the silent tears that slipped down her cheeks. As the music drifted around them, she looked back at him.

"Do you think he could ever love me the way he loves her?" she asked quietly.

Somewhere inside, Ryan felt the impact as his silence caused her world to splinter into fragments of glass at small as sand.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Between Me & You

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

There had been an assignment during the previous year, where Ms. Darbus had directed her students to combine all the characteristics in Shakespeare's plays and come up with a list of qualities the playwright deemed important to lasting relationships. She reminded them of _Romeo and Juliet_ and their sacrifice for love over duty. She recounted the questions raised by the ending of _Twelfth Night_ and the surrounding deceptions. She read the monologues of the suitors in _The Merchant of Venice_ and she questioned the link between the Lady Macbeth and her husband. Back then, surrounded by the cockiness of his youth and the arrogance of having everything at having the teacher wrapped around his finger, Troy had heaped together a list based on a Google search and a conversation he had overheard between Gabriella and Taylor. It had required little thought or analysis and he hadn't cared, choosing instead to focus on the Math test that threatened his honours status and the championship game against West High that loomed on the horizon. Looking back, sorting through everything he had been forced to learn over the passing months, Troy knew that given the chance he could re-write the assignment and make it epic.

When he fell in love with Gabriella, he had understood the power that could have pulled Romeo back from exile with the threat of death only to face it willingly on his own. When Gabriella had fled his presence after he confessed his feelings, he felt the betrayal that Caesar would have felt when Brutus shoved the knife through his flesh and when he awoke in Sharpay's room to find Gabriella standing in the doorway, he understood how Othello would have felt to awaken from a moment of passion to realize he had killed his love and his life. Writing his English final the week that followed, Troy had stumbled over the essay question pertaining to Hamlet and got a flash of Gabriella as he considered how Ophelia would have been driven to her watery grave. His life had become a fucking tragedy where he had no defined part because for all the flashing signs in his head, he knew he was far from being as noble as Shakespeare's tragic heroes. He wasn't a hero, he was the villain.

The present though, the few precious days where the play was put on pause and the audience held its breath to wait for the conclusion, held a turning point in the plot. The gloriousness of where he was had Troy cloaked in golden sunshine that stuck to his skin and refused to let him delve deeper than the surface. He was content to spend his days in Gabriella's presence; their closeness unquestioned as they locked themselves away from their friends and classmates. To look beyond the moment, past the blissful pleasure of contact, was to discover the darker, more sinister points in their betrayal. Subconsciously, whenever he caught himself watching her walk the hall or chatter in class, unaware of the easy smile that lit his face, his thoughts would briefly touch on the reality of what they were doing. A quick smile from her direction or an impulsive touch that flicked against his wrist in the hallway and travelled up his arm, and all doubts scattered to leave him once again surrounded by the desire to avoid the ugly.

Romeo Montague had run away to avoid facing the penalty of his actions before Juliet drew him back to death. Hamlet had lingered in the grave yard to lament over his treatment of Ophelia after returning from his flight across the ocean. Antony had died fighting his fellow Romans, not knowing that his lover was a self-serving, power mongering queen who wanted nothing more than to win. All of them in love; all of them sharing the grave with their lovers while their love turned to ashes. Troy refused to think about it. The after, the consequences, the effects- they could not touch him while he was in the lounge chair on Gabriella's balcony as the midnight stars spilled over them from the heavens.

Orsino and Viola survived the final curtain call. Juliet and Claudio got a happy ending with their bastard child and Lysander won Hermia back in the end despite fairy magic and marriage contracts. Those were who he pinned his hopes on, their comedic context helping to keep the dark at bay. He ignored the voice in his head that told him that Orsino and Viola end on slippery ground, the surprise of her identity a muddy area Shakespeare does not pursue. He fought back against the logic of his mind that told him that Claudio was rescued by his sister in the end, remaining condemned to the same crime and saved from death but not punishment. He refused to be bombarded by the memory that under Puck's spell, Lysander and Hermia barely recognized each other. Troy struggled between what he knew was right and what he wanted, wondering more than once where the true evil lay.

Those famous words, written centuries ago by a dead playwright and painted across the back wall of Ms. Darbus' room, found themselves pounding in his skull every moment that he was pulled back to reality: _Some by sin rise and others by virtue fall. _Yet, Troy argued with himself, where did love fall? True, honest, unrestrained and freely given love? If it was meant to be found and held close, then did the means of gaining it apply?

It didn't matter. As the days fell away and their time grew short, Troy felt the desperation weighing on him. The dark and ugly and sinister was approaching and no happy ending or literary comparison would prove otherwise. It skirted around the balcony on quiet nights and hid outside her room on those days when they curled up and just talked, but it was coming and it brought anxiety and guilt.

But never doubt.

* * *

The screen of the huge TV was lit and the images flickered in the darkness, casting shadows and diffused hues against the tastefully painted walls of the rec room in the Evans' home. The sound had been turned down so low that only a slight buzzing could be heard as the actors interacted with each other against the backdrop of sunny Hawaii during WWII. He had never understood her obsession with Pearl Harbour and Ben Affleck but he couldn't bring himself to argue against her choice of film, or turn it off once she fell asleep.

They lay along the length of the squashy leather sofa, his head resting against the pillowed armrest while she lay along the length of his body. Her head rested on his chest, her curls frizzed from the constant brushing of his fingers, and one hand gripped the t-shirt stretched across his torso while the fingers of her other hand remained hooked on the waistband of his jeans. The knee next to the back of the sofa was bent, keeping her from rolling into the crack between the cushions, and his other foot had fallen asleep shortly after she had hit play. He could feel the gentle nudge of her belly against his hips as she breathed in and out and her breath felt hot against the cotton of his shirt. His eyes were on her face and the gentle curve of her cheeks, one arm propped behind his head. The other rested on her back, maintaining contact at all times.

He was certain he would live a happy life if they never moved from where they were. He ran a finger along her cheek, feeling the silky smoothness and drinking in the feel of her. Since the night she sent him the text message that told of crumbling barriers, there had never been an hour where they weren't together. He had kissed her back in her bed upstairs and woken up beside her. At school they kept their hands to themselves, but when the hallways emptied at the final bell, he would lead her to his truck and take her home. In private, the touches were frantic and lingering. His skin would burn as her fingers dug in and his lips would tingle as they met hers.

His hand slipped absently to her hair, pulling the curls bunched under her head so that they lay fanned around her. A flare caught his eye and he glanced to the coffee table to see his phone buzzing and dancing to the silent ringer. His breath caught and for an instant Troy felt the need to clutch Gabriella close and look around for an intruder into their peaceful bubble. The phone continued to interrupt obnoxiously and yet his hand hovered in midair, his fingers curled in hesitation. Something changed in the girl sprawled across him and he looked down to see her eyelids quiver.

"You should answer that," Gabriella mumbled, never opening her eyes but nuzzling her cheek against the heat of his body.

"I'd rather not," he muttered, retracting his hand to rest lazily across her back.

"You don't know who it is," she chastised quietly, bringing her knee up to rest against his inner thigh, unaware of its exact location in her semi-slumbering state.

"It's either my parents, Chad, or Pay," he told her, shifting slightly and feeling the blood rush back to his foot, "Either way, it's not important right now."

"What did you tell your parents?" she asked, knowing that he had to be running out of excuses given the fact he had only slept in his own bed once in the entire week. She in turn had been offered the guest room by Lucille for that single night, only to creep into Troy's room once all the lights were turned off.

"That we were going to watch a movie and if I or you fell asleep, I would probably just stay the night so I wouldn't set off any alarms by leaving after the housekeeper went to bed." His voice rumbled in his chest and the vibrations could be felt along the upper half of her body. "Chad knows where I am."

"He doesn't like it," she murmured, slurring some of the words with drowsiness.

"He's afraid I'm going to hurt you," Troy whispered, his voice tight. "He's afraid we're in so deep we're no longer rational. I think he understands on some level, but I think he'd rather not know."

"He's too perceptive for his own good," Gabriella agreed, "He knew the minute we arrived in class. I saw the realization slam into him."

"Let's not talk about him, right now," Troy insisted, tightening his arms so that she fit perfectly in his grip.

The silence stretched on and when he looked down again, he saw that she was hazily watching the movie as it silently continued across the screen. The sparkling blue of the Pacific Ocean gleamed as Danny and Evelyn lay half naked in the sand, desire the only thing on their minds while the war slipped away. Looking down, he saw that Gabriella followed their movements with dilated pupils and half-closed lids.

"This is my favourite part," she told him. He knew that, but didn't say anything. "Everything is about the moment. There are no ghosts or war or logic controlling them. It's just them on a beach. No airplanes. No death. Just love and the enjoyment of being with someone."

"I never understood her choice in the end," Troy said quietly and her eyes flicked up to his face before settling on the screen again. "Before they leave for Tokyo, I mean. It's the honourable choice and she loves him, but I always wonder what Danny would have done if he came back alive. Did he really believe her? Or would he have seen the truth later on?"

"Rafe understood," Gabriella reminded him. "He betrayed them both when he left and he thought he deserved to come back and see things had changed. But you're right. I've always wondered where Danny would have stood, given the chance." She inhaled and held it for a moment. "She doesn't understand why you haven't called."

"Honestly?" he asked and she tore her attention away to see that he was watching the actors on the screen without really seeing them. "I've caught myself about to do it a bunch of times, but I was being truthful when I told her that university and life after graduation should be about her and not me. I'd say the same thing to you. It's her life and she should do what she wants. She won't if no one forces her too. If you let her follow you to Oregon or California or New York, then she will wake up one day and wonder when the person she was disappeared. She loves you more than anything, but she needs to see that you need a life that is defined by you and she needs one made by her."

"I've always had this picture in my head," Gabriella confessed, twisting slightly, "Of the both of us in California like we would talk about when we were kids. Maybe we would be in school, maybe not, but we'd rent a place that overlooked the beach and we would surf in the mornings and work at a cool hangout or bar during the nights. Our friends would come to visit and Pay and Ryan would be in New York; everything would be just about the experience and the sun. Even now, I know I want to go to school, but every time someone suggests another state and another city, I think of California and us."

"Maybe that's because it really is what you want," Troy replied, his voice low as he chose his words carefully. "Pay is convincing herself that she wants what you want, or I want or maybe even Ryan. Maybe you see us in California because that's what you want. You can want the same things as me, and not be making the choice only because of me."

"Maybe," Gabriella sighed, letting her eyes close because the bombarding negatives of her life were draining her dry. "She thinks you want to stay here and go to U of A."

"I wanted U of A because until this week, I never thought to hope that there could be an us in California. I had resigned myself to the idea that it was a dream that was never going to happen." Troy let his larger hand close over one of hers that rested on his chest. "Now, no matter where you go, you're going to take a piece of me with you. I could stay at U of A or go to California and still be miles away, but either way, part of me will be with you."

She was quiet for awhile as Troy's reasons for leaving Sharpay in the lurch lingered and she began to understand that there was more to Troy's relationship with her sister than she realized. He still loved Sharpay, even if it had been twisted beyond recognition, and he wanted to see her happy. But he also wanted her to be strong and independent instead of someone who chose to remain in her comfort zone instead of taking a chance. Even if he had not loved Gabriella, Troy would have tried to make Sharpay see the need to make her own plans.

"I need you to make me a promise," Gabriella said to him and he heard the depth in her voice.

"I've made a lot recently," he reminded her.

"She's going to hate us. Forgiveness may come, and it may not, but for awhile she is going to hate us. If I'm going to lose her, promise that I will have you. Even when it gets bad. Promise."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

Gabriella closed her eyes and settled back into his arms. He knew when she left the troubling thoughts behind and slipped into dreams again as her breath evened out and changed under his hand on her back. Picking up the remote and stopping the movie so that the screen went black, he let the room plunge into darkness. Tipping his head towards the cool material of the armrest, Troy let the glow of holding her wash over him.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

The first time she went to his house to play, she had brought the entire series of Superman for them to watch. She wasn't particularly excited to watch it for the fifth straight time, but he had begged her every time he visited and she had always managed to convince him to do something else. Therefore, when her mother learned that she was spending the afternoon at the Bolton home for the time since they became friends, she instructed the children's nanny to send her daughter with an appropriate gift or offering. Loaded with brownies and the movie collection, she had appeared on the doorstep, anxious to prove that she wasn't the spoiled brat her sister sometimes had the community believing they all were. His mother had opened the door with a smile, wearing an apron dotted with flour and looking the way her own mother did on rare occasions when she spent the afternoon in the kitchen with the three children. She had been waved inside and he had pounced on the movie, dragging her by the arm so hard she feared her shoulder would dislocate, until they reached the family room with the worn furniture and TV that hadn't been bought in the last year.

She fell in love with his house and his mother that day. She squealed at being allowed to eat ice cream and brownies on the couch and wasn't chastised for not using a coaster, although she asked for one as soon as she remembered. She had grinned when she followed his lead and propped her feet on the coffee table and felt her cheeks flush when Lucille Bolton informed her with a laugh that the house only had two bathrooms and it didn't matter which she used. The feeling of comfort and home had continued to have an effect on her each time she visited after that and she would watch Superman as many times as he wanted if it meant the kind of freedom his house offered. His mother was always there when hers wasn't and sometimes, after her mother had been gone for weeks with only phonecalls as contact, Gabriella would find herself showing up at the Bolton home even when she knew Troy wasn't home. Lucille never seemed to mind.

Falling in love with Troy came years after falling in love with his house and his mother. She had denied it for so long, that it had hurt physically each time she told him that she felt nothing for him in return. Yet, it would have taken half a heartbeat to pinpoint when she fell in love with him, if someone had thought to ask. It had been in his family room, seated in front of the television with Superman playing for the fiftieth time since their introduction to one another, when he had leaned over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. _'Cheer up loser, I think pink is an attractive shade for you'_, he had joked, running a finger along her calamine covered cheek where a chicken pock had erupted three days before when Ryan and Sharpay brought them home from the dance studio's introductory class for first graders. They had volunteered to help during Winter break and had contracted the sickness as a reward, bringing it home and spreading it to Gabriella as well. Troy's house had been her refuge since he had endured them years before. She had been sixteen, pox covered and layered in calamine lotion, wearing nothing but sweatpants and his hoodie, and he had treated her like it was any ordinary day. She loved him in that moment, although it would take years and litres of tears before she would admit it to herself and him.

Looking back, able to finally acknowledge the truth in her feelings, Gabriella was haunted by the thought of Superman and their afternoons together. Like Lois Lane, she felt like she was leading a double life that was riddled with secrets. On one hand, Gabriella was the same person everyone knew her to be; expected her to be. She participated in activities and committees at school, maintained high class grades, mingled and hung with people from almost every aspect of the school cliques and shopped on a regular basis. On the other hand, there was the girl she was when no one was looking. The girl who told her best friend everything, but hesitated at going as far as to tell her family or her classmates. Her life was becoming a castle of lies and she wasn't sure what would happen when it broke.

In the top drawer of Gabriella's dresser, nestled among her lacy bras and scanty underwear, was a letter that was only the tip of the pyramid of deceit. She had been accepted to Stanford University with an offer of a full ride. The money didn't matter, but the pride of it did. She wanted it so bad and yet, her parents expected her to attend Yale or Harvard or Columbia. Her stepdad's alma mater or her Dad's dream for her. Yet, Stanford was in California and California meant more than any other school could offer. In her backpack, hidden between two folders of math that no one would ever look for, a folder for Juilliard with its glossy cover shining waited. Juilliard was Ryan's dream and yet they had an offer for her without so much as mentioning that she hadn't applied. Ryan's folder had yet to arrive. Sharpay's mentioned nothing of their prestigious mentoring program they were offering Gabriella. She didn't want Julliard, so she had bit her tongue and omitted the information from her parents. Another nail in her coffin. Another skeleton in her closet. Another secret to add to the growing pile.

And at the heart of it, Gabriella and her love for Troy that was no secret to him but unknown by her sister. His reciprocation was an additional secret. Her double life was catching up, as the precious days of privacy and alone time dwindled until the last night as they lay on his couch, feet propped on the coffee table, bowls of ice cream in their laps. Superman played on the DVD player. She had savoured it, burning it in her mind as she had left his house to return to her room that was empty of him for the first time in days. She felt her skin singe from loss of contact and her soul shred as the distance between them grew by feet and then blocks and then subdivisions.

And then, once again, Gabriella found herself alone.

* * *

The roads were quiet as Gabriella wound the luxurious SUV past the gas station and 24-hour coffee place that marked the way to the airport, the streetlights casting a ghostly glow along the route and the headlights of oncoming cars her only company. The dashboard clock flashed just before 9pm and her cellphone lay silent on the seat beside her. Gabriella shivered despite the black and red hoodie that was obviously not in her size, and turned down the air conditioning.

Signalling to the car behind her, she turned onto the parkway that led her to the main doors of the arrivals area. Easing the vehicle into the space out front with practiced grace, she shifted into park and turned her lights off. Leaning her head against the back of the seat, she let the low beat of the radio calm her nerves that jittered and vibrated along every fibre of her core. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she tried to convince herself again that there was no evidence of her deeds or secrets visible on her face. Moving her hair over one shoulder with her hand, she tilted her neck and narrowed her eyes at the one piece of proof of their crime. Settling her hair back into place, she looked out the passenger window to see her family exiting the revolving doors with their suitcases trailing behind each of them.

"Hey, baby girl," her mother greeted her, a tired smile on her face as she waited for Gabriella to throw open the door to the trunk so they could stack their luggage in the rear.

"Hey," Gabriella returned quietly, sending a smile to her stepfather who returned it and Ryan who was speaking in hushed tones to Sharpay and didn't notice. "Good flight?"

"I've been on worse. We weren't expecting to be delayed in Phoenix, though, so I hope you three will be able to stay awake in school tomorrow," her mother replied as the keys were tossed to Vance and Gabriella climbed into the back seat beside Ryan who was now squeezed between both girls.

"We'll be fine," Ryan assured his mother before turning to Gabriella and nudging her with an elbow. "So how was your week? Did we miss anything important at school?"

"Chemistry test on Wednesday and English assignment due on Wednesday," she said with a shrug, slightly unnerved by Sharpay's lack of greeting and words in general. "I'm not in your math class but mine had a quiz yesterday so I would assume yours has passed or is coming."

"How'd you do, Ella?" Vance called from the front, knowing that East High was tracking his stepdaughter's math and science scores for their wall of honour awards that were granted in senior year.

"Pretty good. I got a lot of studying in by tutoring Troy so it worked out well for both of us," Gabriella applied absently, but the words caused her stomach to tighten with guilt when she heard a noise come from Sharpay's side of the car. Ryan sent his twin a look, but she was occupied with staring out the tinted window of the car. Gabriella cleared her throat and swallowed. "So Pay, did you like any of the schools?"

There was a rustle in the corner as Sharpay shrugged, her gaze never wavering from its inspection of the black skyline. Gabriella's breath hitched and her eyebrows rose in confusion. Her eyes flicked to Ryan who shook his head as a sign to let it go for the moment. Inhaling, Gabriella ignored his warning and tried another angle.

"Did you find a dress for homecoming?" she asked timidly, knowing the answer because there had been no extra garment bag in the stack of luggage, but hoping to spark a conversation anyway.

"No," Sharpay replied shortly, her arms crossed and her forehead resting against the glass.

"Oh." Gabriella was slightly taken aback by the tone, but tried not to let it show. "You mentioned a boutique off of Sampson-"

"I decided against it," came the sharp response and Gabriella felt tears prick the back of her eyes.

"Hey, Ella, did Kelsi talk to you about callbacks this week?" Ryan interrupted, aware of the situation as far as Sharpay was concerned and not wanting a confrontation to take place in the car with their parents present. Gabriella looked at him and swallowed hard.

"Um, yeah, they are tomorrow and Thursday during free period. She already has enough people for tech crew and small parts so just the leads and a few supporting roles are left. They're waiting for you two," Gabriella answered, swiping a hand across her eyes.

"Great, then we should make sure that-"

"Your ring is wrong," Sharpay brutally interrupted and Gabriella flinched at the unexpectancy before looking down to see the Irish heirloom on her finger. "It's pointing the wrong way."

The unpolished silver ring that was engraved with two hands holding a crowned heart had been a gift from her stepmother in Oregon a few years back. The woman was Irish and had explained to Gabriella that the ring was traditionally passed through the female side of a family. For years, Gabriella had worn it with the crown pointing in, guarding her heart, but during a common moment of privacy in the past days Troy had cockily slid it off her finger and switched it so that it showed her heart was owned. She had forgotten to turn it back.

"Oh," Gabriella hoped she sounded surprised, "I couldn't find it this morning and when I did, I just jammed it on."

"Whatever," Sharpay retorted, trying not to think about how her sister didn't bother to change it back to its familiar position.

Seeing the house loom ahead, Gabriella couldn't tumble out of the car fast enough, racing up the walkway and throwing open the door as one of the staff came out to help with the bags. Once in her room, she threw herself on her bed and cried into her pillow, praying the lumpy cotton would muffle the sound.

* * *

Sharpay sat cross-legged on her bed, the purple cover rumpled, glaring at the unamused expression on her brother's face as he leaned in the doorway. She had barely been home thirty minutes and already she seemed to be fighting with everyone around her. Her father had chastised her harshly for snapping at the butler who had stayed late to help bring in their things. Her mother had reprimanded her for speaking rudely to the housekeeper who offered to make snacks and now Ryan was angrily informing her that she was being a bitch to Gabriella. Feeling the tendrils of frustration build in her chest, Sharpay continued to slide her phone open and shut as she half-listened, half considered whether calling Troy would be the right thing to do. Ryan caught on to her lack of attention and brought her back sharply with a hand slamming on her wall.

"Would you stop thinking of your problems for one moment, and go apologize to her?" he snapped.

"I didn't do anything," Sharpay ground out. "Why are you so dizzy over this?"

"You didn't say one civil word to her in the car. You are mad at Troy and you're taking it out on her because you know she spent time with him this week. If he chose to ignore your phonecalls, that's on him. He's a big boy who is not controlled by Gabriella." Ryan completed his final point by slamming the door with a suppressed groan of rage and leaving Sharpay to contemplate his words.

Looking down at the phone again, Sharpay sighed and decided he was right. First, she would call Troy before it got too late and if he didn't answer, she would leave a simple message saying she was home and would see him at school. Then she would apologize to Gabriella. Pushing herself off the bed, Sharpay hit the worn speed dial number for her boyfriend and slipped out of the room to wander down the hall towards the bathroom. In her ear, the phone rang once, twice and a third time as she found her hairbrush on the sink and left the bathroom to return down the hall. The phone rang a fourth time in her ear and a voice clicked in to inform her that the client she was dialling was on the other line. Pausing outside Gabriella's door as she considered leaving a message or waiting a minute to try again, she heard a familiar voice drift through the panelled door.

"I don't know why," Gabriella's hushed voice insisted through the door, and Sharpay felt momentarily guilty at the hint of tears in her voice. The guilt was quickly replaced with anger. "No, Troy, she's really mad."

Troy. She was talking to Troy. The boy who hadn't bothered to return his girlfriend's calls all week, or responded to a single text message in that same time frame, was on the phone with her sister only minutes after they got home. The same sister he had seen all week. The same sister Ryan was defending. In the midst of her heightening frustration and anger at Gabriella, Sharpay came to a realization.

Gabriella had called Troy, knowing he wouldn't be on the phone with Sharpay.

Gabriella knew he would answer.

Struggling to breathe, Sharpay sunk to the floor outside her sister's room as one of the tiny cracks in her castle's foundation widened enough for Sharpay to finally take notice.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

Their first vacation as an actual family was spent in Disney World when all three children were eight years old. It had been just after the wedding and the subsequent honeymoon, and Sharpay and Gabriella had flitted around the house in their elaborate princess costumes while Ryan tried to understand why his pirate sword was banned from the airplane. The trip itself had been the stereotypical American commercial for Disney, completed with smiling little girls and an awestruck little boy, but Sharpay's most vivid memory of their excursion had been one of the few events not captured by Maria on film. Gabriella had broken her crown just inside the main gates.

It had been a sparkling pink to match her dress adapted from Sleeping Beauty and Gabriella had insisted that it looked lopsided and she could fix it. Instead, she had snapped it in half and cried silent tears when Sharpay burst into sobs at the atrocious act. It had been unintentional, and a completely unforeseen accident, but Sharpay had refused to forgive her for the first six rides of the day. Only when she needed a partner on the Dumbo ride or risk sitting with the pasty boy with ice cream on his face who picked his nose, did Sharpay grab Gabriella's hand in a silent form of forgiveness and drag her towards the admission gate.

Her favourite activity of the week had been Cinderella's castle and despite Gabriella proving her IQ by telling Sharpay her options for marrying legit royalty were pretty slim and living in England, the Middle East, and parts of Africa, she had sat on the grass late at night and watched the fireworks while dreaming of her prince. Her soulmate. The One. Her knight. He had taken on various images during her life as she searched in Middle School and High School. Eventually, she had been convinced that he was Troy. King of East. Ruler of the basketball court. Modern day equivalent of Prince Charming.

He was sucking at playing his part. He wasn't following her around and spouting poetry. He didn't have a horse and he never told her she was beautiful. His sword was an unattractive basketball borrowed or stolen from a friend, and he hung out with other pretty girls. She loved her sister. Beneath the contempt or resentment she sometimes felt towards her, Sharpay loved Gabriella. But Cinderella's stepsisters weren't supposed to wear the slipper. They weren't supposed to be successful in distracting Prince Charming or gaining his attention. Gabriella, too, was failing miserably at her role.

Sharpay had wit and charm and stunning personality. She was hot and gorgeous and fabulous and breathtaking. She was confident in a lot of areas, but not when it came to Troy and Gabriella. She had seen them together for years and watched them interact. She had witnessed phonecalls and IM messages and notes written in class and slid under the teachers' noses. Gabriella was far from ugly but Sharpay couldn't help but see a line drawn in her life after returning from Oregon and overhearing her stepsister on the phone. It was invisible like the magic in fairytales, but it stood out to Sharpay as observed Gabriella under lowered lashes. There was nothing visibly different, but Sharpay felt like if she reached towards her, her hand would connect with a glass wall that kept Gabriella on one-side and Sharpay on the other. And just like the wall that she knew was there but couldn't see, Sharpay could feel the encroaching black magic that signalled the scary parts that no one would fast forward through this time.

Something had snapped in Sharpay the night she wandered down the hall to hear her sister whispering into the phone with Troy, and she suddenly realized that unlike what she had believed since she was a child, no one was going to save her from what was coming. Troy was not her knight, and Gabriella was not her fairy godmother.

And with blazing clarity, Sharpay admitted that she was not a princess.

* * *

Staring at the ragged edges of the piece of paper torn from his notebook, Sharpay felt her chest tighten and her heart race. A handful of words were scrawled across the faint blue lines, their block letters heavy with the pencil he always used unless ordered otherwise by a teacher. Her eyes drifted to the small drawing that had been started in the corner before being interrupted when it was ripped from the notebook. It was a sword, its blade tapered and shaded perfectly and its hilt decorated with jewels and scars from battle. Excalibur, her mind noted absently, barely listening to the English teacher who was outlining their next assignment on King Arthur. The sword of kings. The sword worthy to rule England. The sword of a knight. Sharpay held in her need to scoff at the idea given the past week.

_Meet me during free period. I'll skip practice_.

He hadn't talked to her all morning. After overhearing Gabriella talking to him the night before, Sharpay had dragged herself back to her room and curled up with her phone in her hand, a tiny piece of her still hoping he would call. When he didn't, she had fallen asleep and woken up to face school. She had dressed casually, not in the mood to consider what would make him happy, and her favourite jeans and pink tank top seemed the best she could come up with given the emotions rocketing around her head. She had entered school with Gabriella but left her before making it to their lockers, hoping to avoid Troy until she could face him without crying or screaming.

Now he wanted to talk. Four periods and lunch had passed and not a word. He had conveniently managed to find something to talk about with anyone but her for their two classes together and he had bolted from Gabriella's side the moment they had emerged from Math class before lunch. She hadn't seen him until this final period of the day and now he was asking her to skip study hall to meet him. She reread his message again and tried to steel herself against every scenario she could think of.

As the bell rang, she crumpled the piece of paper in her hand and looked around, slightly surprised to see him already gone. Gathering her things, she felt someone behind her and turned, trying to hide her anxiety as she saw it was Gabriella. Her sister gave her a small smile but her eyes showed a wariness that had Sharpay wondering if it was because of her brutal attitude the last few days or because Gabriella knew what Troy wanted. Tossing her jacket into her bag, Sharpay tightened her fist around the ball of paper.

"I have to use the bathroom," Gabriella told her quietly, "Can you save me a seat in the library? Or ask Taylor to do it?"

"Actually," Sharpay began, making sure the teacher at the front of the room couldn't hear her before continuing, "I was going to ask you to cover for me so I can do something important."

"Troy?" Gabriella asked, her eyes automatically flicking towards the door where he would normally wait. She didn't wait for Sharpay to say anything else. "No problem, I'll figure something out. You think they would believe JetLag?"

Sharpay wanted to stay stony but the giggle broke loose and Gabriella's eyes lit up. Sighing inwardly, Sharpay fought against the need to yell at her sister, but also to keep her from drilling her for information about Troy. She had finally come to understand why Gabriella was uncomfortable with the relationship, why she had continued to insist all summer and the early weeks of fall why nothing could be the same with Troy and Sharpay as it had been with Sharpay and other boys. She got that part now. What she didn't get was how Gabriella could listen to both sides and not play mediator. She did it with everyone else. Chad and Taylor. Ryan and Kelsi. Ryan and Sharpay. Troy and whats-her-face during the tenth grade. Why she and Troy were any different, Sharpay couldn't understand.

"I'm not sure about JetLag, but you'll come up with something," Sharpay muttered quietly as they left the room. "Am I driving you home today?"

"Uh, no, I'm going to Chad's to work on math. Taylor's class is behind us so she's not sure what our class is doing. I'll be home after supper. Mom knows," Gabriella told her as they stopped at the door by the far end of the hallway.

"Okay," Sharpay relented, taking a deep breath and letting it out through her pursed lips. Without wanting to, she glanced at Gabriella and found understanding and worry in her eyes. "Why is he doing this?"

"Maybe you should wait for him to talk before jumping to conclusions," Gabriella suggested.

"You don't know what he wants?"

"This is between you and him," Gabriella urged her gently.

"But you know?" Sharpay repeated, her eyes narrowing as she searched for a hidden warning in her sister's eyes. Gabriella looked away and Sharpay sucked desperately at the thick air.

"I know Troy. Just listen to him."

The rooftop of East High had become the one place no one intruded upon unless they were certain Troy Bolton was not there, or unless invited by the basketball captain himself. Gabriella could venture there unquestioned. Chad could only when desperate. Sharpay could when armed with a sufficient excuse to bother his pondering of life altering moments. She usually gave that explanation in a voice laced with sarcasm, but today, she was hoping he would hear her footsteps and ask her to leave. She was hoping, but she had little faith in hope these days.

"Hey," he called to her softly, and her gaze found him leaning over the edge with his elbows resting on the bricks. He didn't turn to see her approach, but she could hear the hesitation in his voice. "We need to-".

"Don't say it, please," she pleaded softly, cutting him off. "Needing to talk goes without saying, but I don't need to hear you say it."

He nodded, his gaze still roaming the skyline of Albuquerque. The silence stretched on as Sharpay heard the final bell signal the commencement of their free period. Voices floated up from the courtyard below, voices of those skipping class early or having an open block. The rough sound of engines on school buses rippled through the air, their engines idling as they waited for school to end. Sharpay locked her hands behind her back and stood where she had stopped. The distance between them seemed to gape, widening with every second that ticked by.

"You didn't call," she finally said. His eyes left the horizon and he turned, his arms resting along the top of the bricks and his feet crossed at the ankles. Anyone with less experience would think he was relaxed. She knew he was trying to keep himself from fidgeting. "Despite how you acted the night before I left, I had thought you would call. Or text. Or just answer one time. You didn't."

"Calling you would just be another reminder of what you would be leaving behind if you decided to go to school in Oregon. And then you would think about that every time you thought about New York or California or Boston or Florida. You don't need me to be another reason you settle for second best and stay in Albuquerque." His eyes bored into hers and she tried to think of what Gabriella had said. Listen to him.

"Why do you keep saying that?" she asked, tears threatening as frustration and confusion overwhelmed her. "Why do you always let it come back to me leaving and you staying? Do you want me to leave that badly?"

"No, Pay," he replied gently and evenly, "But you do. You don't want to stay here and study business while singing and acting at the Twinkle Star Theatre in the West End for the afternoon matinee production of Cinderella. Why should you when you have the talent and the ambition and the passion to be at Juilliard? Or the San Francisco School of Performing Dance? Or the American Ballet Academy?" She didn't answer and he continued. "You shouldn't settle for less just because you're afraid to be alone. To start new."

"I'm not afraid," she argued, her throat closing as she fought the tears because he was behaving like a brother or a friend and not a boyfriend. "And U of A isn't second best. You're staying here; are you saying it's okay for you to settle for less but not me?"

"Pay, you're missing the point," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You don't want to go to school here. You'd be staying for me. The same reason you considered Oregon and Florida- because Gabriella and Ryan were interested. But not you, Butterfly. You want the lights and the audience and the city pace. You just don't know how to admit that you want it bad enough to leave everyone behind."

"What does this have to do with you not calling? Not once. You spent all week with Gabriella and then you don't even call last night when you knew I was home. You called her," Sharpay told him flatly.

"That's different," Troy insisted, "She thinks you're mad at her for hanging out with me. She doesn't understand why you nearly bit her head off last night."

"And I don't understand why she's always first!" Sharpay's eyes widened and her teeth clamped on her tongue as she tried to figure out where the outburst had come from. It certainly hadn't been planned.

"Pay, I didn't want us to argue up here. I just wanted to talk to you," Troy said, trying to gain back control. He had planned the whole conversation in his head and Sharpay's observations and raging emotions were ripping his plan to pieces. "We need to talk about us, and Ella is not going to be dragged into this."

"Oh no," Sharpay bit out, "Can't have Ella involved, can we? There is no us without Ella, Troy. Whether you like it or not, whether I like it or not, Ella is in this equation because everything you do lately is to keep her happy or safe or not mad at you. I'm tired of it."

"Then we have a problem, Pay, because she's your sister and she's my best friend. We did something stupid by jumping together the way we did. She had no warning and neither one of us took the time to consider how she would feel. That hurts, Sharpay, knowing that I caused this. It hurts and the only way I know how to fix it is to make sure she knows I'm always there." Troy took a breath to continue but Sharpay beat him to it.

"You're saying us together is stupid," she gasped, stepping back, "You regret us, don't you? You...you...I don't understand. How can that be? I thought you knew what you were doing. I thought you had finally just opened your eyes, but that's not it at all. You and me, that night, it was all a reckless impulse."

"Pay, there's more to it than that," Troy pleaded. He didn't want her thinking he considered her some cheap slut he got for free because of a crush. He needed her to understand he cared, just not the same way and not as much as Gabriella. He needed to stop her from going off the rails and finding her own conclusions without him giving her the facts.

"I can't do this right now," she stammered, looking towards the stairs and taking another step in their direction, "I can't do this here. I need to think."

"Pay-."

"No," she said, holding up a hand and shaking her head so that the golden locks swivelled, "No. Leave me alone."

She ran. Part of her hoped he would follow, running after her and calling her name before catching up and pleading with her to love him. Part of her wanted him to stay far away until she could convince herself she didn't care. Of course, reaching the parking lot and locating her convertible, she glanced behind her and felt the full weight of her fairytale crush her.

He hadn't followed.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

Chad had felt trapped and caged many times before his senior year of high school. In preschool, he and Troy had built a fortress entirely from sponge blocks. It had collapsed during a truly epic battle with G.I Joe and the Ninja Turtles, leaving both boys buried beneath a mound of colourful foam. It hadn't bothered him until Troy had escaped from the debris to sit atop Chad and order him to beg for mercy. Years later, when girls still had cooties and were considered be all that was wrong with the world, Gabriella had tackled him to the ground in the sandbox and pinned him down long enough to give him a black eye for calling Ryan a girl for the third consecutive day in a row. A few weeks later, when he was still reluctant to be within a mile radius of the feisty brunette, Troy had instigated a game of hide and seek where Chad foolishly allowed Sharpay to convince him that the dryer in the Evans' laundry room would be a truly epic hiding place. Epic was her word, horrifying was Chad's. It had taken everyone in the house, adults included, exactly two hours and fifty-six minutes to locate his screaming within the four-story home. Sharpay of course had refused to give him up even when bribed with Barbie dolls.

Since then, Chad had found himself in similar situations within the dynamic of his friends. Troy had been an avid wrestling companion in the Bolton living room. Sharpay was a master at convincing him to go shopping and carrying the bags of every girl involved. Gabriella had locked him in a closet with Taylor the week after their first date. The list continued, but lately it was considered alongside a common thought he had realized one afternoon while half-listening to Darbus ramble: Not all cages were visible, and not everyone was physically trapped. Troy had trapped Chad in a promise when he confessed his love for Gabriella. Under its conditions, Chad was forced to sit back and watch as she brushed off Troy's advances and rejected his attempts. He kept his mouth shut as Sharpay entered the picture, unable to see further than what she had gained. Shifting the scene forward, Chad had been handcuffed by Gabriella's pleas to leave things be, and her desire for him to live by her decisions to keep Sharpay in the dark and her own heart protected. Now, as the school year progressed and things unwound around him without the innocent public realizing it, Chad was imprisoned by his own indecisions.

Watching Troy, Chad saw the guy he had grown up with finally happy and focused. He had lost the tortured, lost look of the summer. Gabriella too, caught Chad's attention as she held her head up and made eye contact with the blue eyed basketball player in the seat beside her. The air snapped between them that first day after Sharpay's departure for another state and Chad had sharply inhaled when they walked in the classroom. It was clear as day and yet no one else caught the stolen glances or slight smiles or light grazes as their fingers swept past each other. Chad saw it, and he knew what it meant. They had cracked and once again, he was trapped in the center of a deadly game of love with the queen of hearts.

He saw the prolonged visits to the bathroom during study sessions in the library, and the how quick they moved to pair up in chemistry. He saw the flush in Gabriella's cheeks when she caught Chad looking and the pleading look in Troy's eyes when Chad would purposely mention Sharpay's name. He saw and he did nothing, because he knew nothing mattered anymore to either of them except the other. So, Chad stayed quiet.

When Sharpay returned quiet and withdrawn, Chad ignored it. When Troy slipped his hand from her grasp when she tried to gain his attention, Chad ignored it. When raised voices escaped from the kitchen, Chad ignored it.

Because he understood.

Because he got it.

Because he just wanted it to end, no matter the cost.

* * *

The selection process had been endless and the evidence of such was in a heap at the base of the big screen television screen. DVDs were placed in a neat pile that had been carefully selected by Ryan and Gabriella. Action films and classics, a random horror flick tossed among a handful of chick flicks. Leonardo Di Caprio's latest work next to Angelina Jolie's newest blockbuster hit. Each one was picked with a friend in mind, the same way it was every week.

For Chad there was Fast & the Furious, hot from production. Taylor got Blood Diamond and Kelsi got something dreamy and whimsical that she had been ranting about for weeks that no one but Ryan had heard of. Gabriella had tossed in PS I Love You and had grabbed Transformers for Troy, knowing he would demand it the minute he stepped in the doorway. Sharpay had participated long enough to toss 27 Dresses into the mix before heading back upstairs to lock herself away for the remaining hour before the gang arrived. Watching her turn her back and disappear around the corner, Gabriella bit her lip before turning bright eyes on Ryan.

"I don't know what I did," she whispered, half afraid to ask. She had done plenty in the last two weeks since her family had left her behind in New Mexico to warrant Sharpay's shunning, but Gabriella also knew that those acts were not known. Which left the reason for her sister's dismissal a mystery. "Do you?"

"El, she's just confused right now," Ryan said softly as he averted his eyes to the remote he held as he fiddled with the surround sound. "There's a lot in her head and maybe it's not your fault directly, but she sees you as part of it. She'll come around once her and Troy figure things out."

"What if they don't?" Gabriella asked timidly, briefly meeting his eyes before reaching down to rearrange the bowls of food on the coffee table. "What if this is it?"

Ryan scanned her face and fidgeting hands as he contemplated her words and the way in which she said them. Not with curiosity or inquiry. She had already considered the possibility. Tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as she swiped an invisible crumb from the table, Ryan closed his eyes and plunged in to save one sister from another.

"You knew it was coming." Ryan's voice was blunt and more harsh than he intended, but it got her to look at him. He saw the truth in her eyes and the part of him that could tell him Sharpay's emotions and thoughts without effort grew angry at the realization. "You knew and didn't warn her? You're her sister!"

"And he's my best friend," Gabriella snapped, eyes blazing as Ryan hit the nerve and the point she had been trying to make to Sharpay for months. "I don't want to know what's going on between them but if they feel the need to tell me, I am not going to rat them out to each other."

"You could have given her a warning, El," Ryan reasoned, his voice hard, "Something to soften the blow. You weren't there the week he decided to ignore her or the plane ride home when she tried to rationalize what she had done wrong. You weren't there; you were here with him."

"There were warning signs, Ryan," Gabriella responded, her temper dissipating as she tried to understand, "She just didn't see them. They've been there for awhile."

"Did Troy tell you that?" Ryan bit out, hearing a doorbell ring near the front of the house.

"He didn't have to tell me. He's my best friend and he's been unhappy. If it's because of a relationship or school or basketball, it doesn't matter, because Sharpay should have picked up on it. That's her job, is it not? To pay attention to her boyfriend instead of the shade of her lipgloss?" Gabriella gasped to inhale breath as she realized the words she had let slip through her lips. She involuntarily took a step back, seeing the warring shadows on Ryan's face as he processed the development. "I love her, but that doesn't mean I can protect her forever. She's in love with Troy because of what she thinks Troy represents, not because of who he actually is. He's not a prince or Adonis. He's not Paris or Romeo. He's just Troy and he makes mistakes and he acts on impulse. That's who he is, but she's missing out on it because she can't see past her own conjured idea of reality."

"You're actually going to make excuses for him?" Ryan asked, incredulous because Gabriella had never seemed so protective of another being in her life. He could imagine the hackles raised along her back and the retractable claws. "You say you're neutral, but you're not. You're siding with him."

"I want everyone to be happy and Troy's not happy with Sharpay, and Sharpay may not realize it but soon, she won't be happy with Troy either." Footsteps sounded lightly on the floor behind her and Gabriella turned to see Chad and Troy enter the rec room, their eyes shifting uneasily as they interrupted.

"Um, hey," Chad began, clearing his throat as Ryan thrust the remote control at Gabriella with a glare.

"I'm going to get drinks and talk Pay out of her room," Ryan informed the duo with an intensified look aimed in Troy's direction. "The girls should be here soon."

"What was that about?" Troy asked softly when Ryan had left them behind and Chad had begun sorting through the options for the evening.

"The same thing it's always about," Gabriella told him with a catch in her voice. "My sister is stuck between hating you and loving you. What's going to happen when she realizes I'm in the middle?"

"I don't know." It was all he had, and with a nod, she accepted it for the moment.

The lights had been dimmed by remote after everyone had found their proper place within the room. The TV flickered as cars screamed and roared through the sound system and their bright paints glowed on the screen. The pile of DVDs had been scattered during the discussion of choosing a film and their plastic covers reflected the glow of the TV. Bowls of popcorn had been emptied and the glasses stacked and moved out of the way, leaving the occupants of the room to relax and sprawl as much as they liked.

In the squishy armchair in the far corner, Kelsi curled into Ryan's side as he rested his chin on top of her head. Beside them on the floor, Taylor and Chad lay interwined among the pillows and blankets taken from the back of the couch and the hall closet. Taylor's head rested against Chad's chest, her hand on his knee as he whispered sarcastic comments in her ear about Vin Diesel and Paul Walker. Jason leaned back against the couch, his feet propped in front of him on the coffee table, while Zeke sat with one knee bent just within reach of the bowl of Swedish Fish.

Beside Jason, Gabriella sat rigid and afraid to move. Beneath the blanket that had been thrown across her lap by Jason as he struggled to get it out of his way, her hand burned hot as Troy's fingers rubbed circles across her knuckles. His leg was pressed to hers, the heat building between her purple sweats and his jeans, and when he was certain everyone was engrossed in the movie he ran his foot along her ankle. An engine in the movie backfired and Gabriella's automatic reflex was to dig her nails into the soft flesh of his thumb. She missed the smirk on his face, but Sharpay didn't.

Curled up next to the arm rest of the couch, making certain that none of her touched Troy and wrapped in her own blanket, Sharpay watched him from the corner of her eye. Letting her eyes leave his lips, she let them trail down his body until they rested on the blanket draped around him. When the sound of a gun startled Gabriella again, Sharpay narrowed her eyes. Her sister was never jumpy. She laughed through horror movies and mocked the victims for their stupid decisions. She was more likely to be drooling over Vin's pecs than to jump at the sound of a starter gun at a race. The blanket moved and shifted and Sharpay ripped her gaze away before she could have her suspicions confirmed.

Her fists gripped each other mercilessly as the DVD rolled on, not looking back at the two people beside her until the final scene. Nothing had changed between Troy and Gabriella despite her argument with Troy the day before. He was only awkward around her, not once hesitating to resume his usual touches or hugs with Gabriella. Not once did he pull back and Sharpay felt another piece of her heart break as she watched. In gaining him as a boyfriend, she had lost him as a friend. But Gabriella, she still had all of him no matter what and Sharpay didn't know how to feel about that. Watching them, seeing that Gabriella had fallen asleep during the final moments with her head tucked under Troy's chin, Sharpay felt pain tear into her soul.

She felt like a traitor, her mind accusing her sister of hideous deeds at the expense of trust, yet something in her gut told her that she wasn't crazy. She wasn't seeing things through a haze of jealousy. She was seeing what was truly there, directly in front of everyone if they cared to look.

Troy was in love with Gabriella.

And Sharpay was forced to ask herself, that if she could finally see it, who had seen it all along?

* * *

She was groggy and half asleep as she dragged her feet up the stairs when everyone had left the house. Wrapping her arms around herself, Gabriella halted in the hallway at the sound of her name. Turning, she rubbed a hand over her face before seeing her sister who stood in the doorway of her own room. One hand on the railing, the other hanging limply at her sides, Gabriella tried to wake her brain up.

"How do you do it?" Sharpay asked, her voice flat and heavy.

"Do what?" Gabriella asked, slightly irritated that after being ignored for a week, she was being spoken to at the worst possible moment.

"Be flawless. Perfect. Stunning. How do you do it and not even know what it does to people? To him?"

"Pay, I have no idea what you're talking about," Gabriella sighed, sinking to the steps and resting her tired head against the balustrade. "You're beautiful and gorgeous and hot, too."

"But not like you. It's never like you. If it was, it would be enough." Sharpay looked away, aware that she was rambling and made no sense but desperate for answers while Gabriella was vulnerable and not cloaked behind her fabricated walls. "Tell me what it is that makes him look at you the way he does?"

"Pay, it's late and you apparently drank something when no one was looking. Can we please have this discussion tomorrow?"

"Not until you tell me why he thinks you're perfect. Not until I can understand why."

Gabriella lifted her lids and looked her sister straight in the eye and decided that she was tired of lying. Licking her lips, she gazed at Sharpay. Dressed in a simple white night gown that reached her knees and her hair void of pins but flowing unchecked down her back, she looked more like the girl Gabriella remembered than the Barbie princess who had appeared in the East halls the year before. Sighing, she made herself watch as the words hit her sister.

"Because no one is perfect but you try so hard to be."

"And that's bad?" Sharpay whispered, her fingers clutching the doorframe.

"You tell me," Gabriella responded before hauling herself to her feet and continuing along the way to her own room.

Shutting the door behind her, Gabriella padded towards the bed, sinking down to kick off her slippers. Looking over her shoulder to where the curtains on her balcony swirled in the wind, she looked back to the floor before standing and pulling the sweatshirt over her head, tossing it on the floor. A soft sound was heard behind her and she shut her eyes and willed herself to be strong to her decisions and her heart.

"How long did you plan to stand out there?" she called, watching the shadows cross the floor.

"This time around," he told her as he slid his arms around her waist, "I'm willing to wait forever."


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

They had officially moved into the Evans mansion the September before Vance and Maria got married. It had been the week before school had commenced, and the parents had decided that it would be easier to begin the entire school year together and with a routine that all three children could follow without a hiccup. Gabriella had balked at the idea when her young mind realized that meant packing up and leaving for the second time in as many years, even if it was only a ten minute drive away and not a handful of states.

To ease her into it, Maria had taken her and Sharpay shopping for accessories and furniture to redo the guest room that would be handed over to her daughter. Sharpay had tried to load up the cart with pink while Gabriella had insisted on green and purple, much to the chagrin of her soon-to-be sister. It had been a weekend project, complete with painting, curtains and bedding, but the crowning glory for Gabriella had been when Vance had strapped on his handyman toolbelt and measured for new wood to replace the rotting balcony outside her room. That had taken longer, but when it was finished and painted and the rose and lilac bushes replanted beneath it, Gabriella had stood against the railing and declared herself Repunzel and Juliet and every other famous figure who had made their mark with a balcony or tower scene.

Sharpay hadn't been jealous, claiming that not only did she get the bigger closet but that Gabriella was going to have more monsters under her bed because they could sneak through the newly installed garden doors. Ryan had teased her about bird poop and Maria had lectured her about locking the doors at all times. It had made the transition easier, which had been the idea, but has the years trudged forward and Gabriella's room moved on from Disney princesses and storybook characters, the balcony continued to be the one constant and the one thing definitively hers.

The first person to climb from the kitchen garden to her balcony had been Troy to no one's surprise. He had resembled a monkey as he sought branches for his hands and trellis wood for his feet. The adventure had been nothing more than a dare from Sharpay who had hoped their father would appear and scare the living lights out of Troy, and she had been successful when Troy reached the top, smiled victoriously, and then realized he had no idea of how to get down. After that, it had been a game to see who could enter the Evans' property and gain entry via Gabriella's balcony doors without being caught. Chad broke his arm once. Jason required four stitched when the trellis collapsed under his weight. Even Taylor and Kelsi had completed the task more than once.

Gabriella had been celebrating her sixteenth birthday when her step brother, visiting from Oregon, had been in the backyard playing tennis with Ryan and witnessed Troy and Chad scaling the wooden supports to his little sister's room and attempted to end the tradition. He had physically hauled both boys off the rose trellis and proceeded to lecture them for an hour on respecting girls' privacy. Gabriella had been livid and instead of defusing the situation, she had simply made herself a target for another lecture on having boys in her room. Yet, despite all the fuss and the countless hospital trips, Vance and Maria had understood their children and their friends' connection and attraction to the allure of the balcony and although the roses were trimmed regularly, and the trellis never reinforced like the gardener often suggested, they never forbade Gabriella from allowing it to be used in such a manner.

By the end of their junior year, Gabriella's friends had begun to learn that the front door offered a classier and cooler entrance to the house and the balcony climbs became fewer and farther between. Except for Troy. It was nothing for him to arrive on Gabriella's balcony well after basketball practice, his hair dripping and his clothes tossed on, bringing ice cream tubs or cookies or slushies before settling down for a quick study session. He would slip in and out without anyone acknowledging his presence, although that didn't mean they didn't know what went on. When Gabriella returned from Oregon, he resumed his visits. Sometimes, he would gain her attention only to be ignored. Other times, the words would die on his tongue and he would be left standing outside her glass doors, watching as she read a book or talked on her phone.

She always knew when he was there, whether she let him know it or not. It was hard not to, with the way his stare could burn through walls and pierce her skin. He became as much a fixture to her private space as her balcony. Always definitively hers.

* * *

Gabriella felt Troy move behind her as a light breeze trickled through the open balcony doors and brushed against her skin. Sighing, she turned to face him, searching his eyes for the answers she so desperately needed resolved. The sparkling blue took her breath away and for a moment, she forgot what she was looking for, only for the memory to return and for her to realize he didn't have the answers. No one did. Instead, she found love in their depths, so intense that her heart sped up just acknowledging it. She cupped a hand on his jaw and the lines on his forehead deepened when he saw the seriousness in her eyes.

"You shouldn't be here," she told him softly, taking away her hand and stepping back from his embrace. Everything felt cold suddenly, but she resisted the temptation to return. "We can't do this."

"I didn't come to throw you on the bed, Ella," he answered, his voice slightly hitched by the fact that he couldn't touch her any further. "We need to talk though, because tonight was torture."

"You started it," Gabriella retorted quietly, fighting the pull between them that made both of them quiver in their places. She took a breath before focusing. "We can't do this while Pay thinks she can fix what's between you two. We can't do anything until she understands it's over."

"I'm trying," he insisted, sounding exasperated. "I'm really trying, but yesterday backfired. She's just-," he ran a hand through his hair and tilted his head back, "-I tried talking to her, El, and she turned everything around. Right now, she thinks it's her fault, but when she finds out the truth-" He trailed off and Gabriella felt tears prick her eyes because she knew what was coming. The scene in the hallway only minutes before slammed into her and she knew what he was going to tell her. "She's going to blame you, El. It won't matter what the facts are, she's going to blame it on you and I don't think I can handle that."

"She asked me why being perfect isn't enough for you," Gabriella whispered, slightly horrified by the realization that her sister was going to hate her. Before it had been a possibility, a probability, but now it was a guarantee. A surety. Troy's eyes widened.

"When?" he asked, his hand reaching for hers before yanking it back. He wouldn't taint their relationship and its possibility more than they already had.

"In the hallway, just now on my way here," her eyes scanned the floor of her room as one tear broke loose and slid down her cheek. Her hand dashed at it quickly and Troy turned away.

"El, I-," he choked, "If you're rethinking this-"

"No," she hissed, yanking her head up and clenching her fists, "Never think that. I can't go backwards, Troy, never again. If she blames me, then we let her blame me. If she hates me, let her hate me."

"But-"

"No, I was ready for this when I invited you over while she was away. We can do this, but we're doing it together," Gabriella brought her chin up, stubbornness in every line, to look Troy in the eye. "She is so close to the truth. I can't let her find out on her own. If I am going to be responsible for tearing her world apart, then I am going to have the guts to do it to her face."

"Are you sure?" Troy asked, searching her face for doubt, but he couldn't find any. When she gave a stiff nod, he sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets before he could hug her. All he wanted was to draw her in close and hang on forever. "Then you're ready to do this? Tell her everything? Kill her fairytale?"

Gabriella raised an eyebrow, realizing for the first time how deeply Troy had known Sharpay had entrenched herself in a false love story. He had known from the moment he woke up in her bed the damage his choice would cause, and Gabriella was finally able to reconcile why he had let Sharpay hang on for so long. He had wanted to make her happy, and he would have continued to do so for as long as Gabriella denied him.

"It's not her fairytale," Gabriella replied, steel laced under the hushed tones, "It was yours and mine, no matter how many times we tried to rewrite it, it's been ours."

He had left hours ago, climbing down the balcony by way of the clematis trellis and the stunted, ornamental tree. She had stood like Juliet, leaning against the painted white wood as he deftly slid down, hiding in the shadows as he spotted someone in the downstairs living room window before dashing across the lawn. She had listened to the roar of his truck engine that had been parked a street away once everyone had left, and when it faded, she had turned and made her way back into the bedroom that still smelled of his cologne.

Seated on the pale yellow rug in the center of the room, the bed looking rumpled from an hour of tossing and turning, Gabriella sifted through a shoebox of memories. Her boxers were rolled down past her hips and her loose tank top slipped off one shoulder. Her hair was down. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks as she inspected each item in her hand before casting it into the pile growing to her right. The box itself had been pasted and decorated with stickers and beads and glitterglue, an art project when she was younger that had been kept through the years for one purpose. It documented her moments with Ryan and Sharpay.

Pictures, movie ticket stubs, concert tickets, plane tickets to vacation destinations. Each one she could match with a memory, an event, a joke. Each was rooted in her heart. Gabriella tossed aside the pamphlet from Fashion Week in New York City the year before when their mother took them, recalling how Sharpay had gushed over the runway and the lights. Looking down, she ran her fingers over the next picture in the pile. It was a group shot, of Ryan, Sharpay, Troy, Chad and herself the previous Christmas at Taylor's house. Looking back, Gabriella could find some many clues that no one else would look for. It joined the pile. The next was her and Sharpay in the East High stands, cheering on Troy and Chad during the championship game last January.

The mementos kept coming, as the pile in her hands grew smaller as each one was put aside. Sighing when the last one had been replaced in the box and the cover lovingly pressed down, Gabriella ran her fingers over the names sketched out on the lid in their distinctive cursive. The tears had left her cheeks feeling dry and stiff and her eyes burning. Standing, she carried the box to its place in the bottom drawer of her desk and dropped it inside. Crawling into bed, the clock flashed the early hours of Sunday morning. Curled into a ball, clutching the teddy bear that Troy had won for her years ago at a fair on the West Side, Gabriella willed herself to sleep before the tears could begin again.

She wasn't sure when it would happen, or how, but she knew that she only had a handful of moments left with her sister before everything disintegrated.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

She had always been fascinated by the way people could be captured on film. While the idea of being a photographer never interested her, Jason Cross' explanations of the function theories and pieces of photography were entrancing in detail and subject. The lighting, angles and the use of makeup and shadows were concepts he easily tossed around, snapping shots of her and their friends to continuously offer visual aids to his lessons. Every moment of their lives that held some importance was forever imprinted on photopaper and stored in his portfolio or disks. She always asked for copies and he always obliged. They were kept in an oversized envelope that resided on the upper shelf of her desk, its sides bulging each time a memory was added until a day when she would dump out the contents on her bed and sort through them; compiling a timeline of her life.

Not all of her photographs were taken by Jason. There were a couple of faded, square pictures that were typical of the time around her parents' wedding; her mother dressed in fashionable white lace with an elegant veil. Her father wore a tux with a slightly crooked tie. There was another from a few years later, two blonde babies with scrunched up pink faces looking perplexed as two parents stared over their bassinets. She never focused long on those memories; they made up who she was and part of her past, but it never garnered the attention usually given to nostalgic moments. Further along were pictures of birthday parties and pink frosted cakes, blonde ringlets and a silver haired grandmother. Six pictures made up the six years before Gabriella Montez.

As if photo technology had blossomed and followed Gabriella's wake into the Evans house, the pictures got brighter and glossier as time progressed eleven years into the future. The birthday balloons seemed redder, the orange and black tigers at the zoo more terrifying. Her dresses were more pink, Gabriella's favourite red more vibrant and Ryan's blonde hair more dimensional. The smallest of details were flawless. Dark and light, shadows and highlights, each captured with perfection and containing every secret.

The way Gabriella's hand always clasped Sharpay's. The way Troy was always positioned between the two of them, yet somehow always managing to touch Gabriella. The way Chad always seemed to be watching the two of them instead of the camera lens. Without knowing, Jason had photographed the inter-workings of East High's highest clique. It wasn't just Junior Prom, it was a Junior Prom with Sharpay watching Troy's hand as it rested on Gabriella's hip on that night in May. It wasn't just a bonfire with the gang of them, it was a bonfire where an obvious gap separated Gabriella and Sharpay, Ryan between them and Troy off to the side with a drink in hand. If Sharpay could recall correctly, it had been the weekend after Gabriella returned from Oregon. It wasn't just a girls' night, it was girls' night where Gabriella was absent and Troy wasn't answering his phone.

It was all there in front of her, spread out across the spotless covers, the light bouncing off the high finish gloss. The evidence that proved that she wasn't a typical, jealous girlfriend. His vague answers, his desire to include Gabriella like old times and the disappointment that was on his face when she declined. The touching. The lion-like protection of her whenever guys approached her in the hall. His non-committal response to Homecoming tickets. His love was printed in the photos on Sharpay's bed, going back years. Further back than their first date, further back than their first night. Beginning before her completely.

Sharpay was no longer wondering how long, or how much. Troy loved Gabriella. Not her. But a new question was blooming in the back of Sharpay's mind and it threatened to overthrow the neutral ground she had maintained when considering the current situation.

Did Gabriella know?

* * *

Sharpay pushed her eggs around her plate, the prongs of the fork scrapping against the china and emitting a cringe-worthy screech, breaking the palpable silence that blanketed the kitchen table on Sunday morning. Across from her, Gabriella quietly buttered her toast, the stroked evenly spreading jam across the surface. No one bothered to point out that she had been doing that for five minutes, or that the circles under her eyes were so pronounced it looked like she had mixed up her eye shadow with her concealer.

Ryan was using his orange as a puzzle cube—trying to put all the pieces back in place before getting fed up and eating them one by one anyway. His mouth was set in a grim line. The five words of welcome he had spoken upon arriving in the kitchen had been met with a weak smile from Gabriella and a withering look from Sharpay. The house itself sounded empty, with not even a voice or set of steps from their parents in the rooms upstairs. Their friends had left the night before, but the remnants of the snacks and drinks littered the countertops. The housekeeper had strict orders to not clean up after the teens and their friends. Sharpay looked at it, exhausted, and decided she would leave it until later. Right now, it was all she could do to maintain the shaking in her hands. Gabriella's presence weakened her resolve with the anger that came rushing in.

Stan ding, Sharpay went to the cupboard for a glass. Setting it on the counter, she reached into the fridge and brought out the orange juice. Her siblings were watching her, she could feel it. Imagine it in her mind's eye. Lowered lashes that saw both their plates and her back. The skin between her shoulder blades tingled. Juice spilled over the rim and down the crystal sides to the floor, splashing her bare feet. Feeling detached, Sharpay set the glass on the edge of the countertop. Not far enough back, she barely realized her mistake before it fell to the tile floor, smashing.

"Pay!" Ryan's chair was shoved back but Sharpay didn't look up from the shards on the floor. The sunlight coming through the windows made the tiniest slivers sparkle and glimmer. It would be easy to clean them up. "Don't move!"

"I'll get a broom." Sharpay's head jerked up at Gabriella's calm voice, and her fluid movements as she rose from her seat. Sharpay jammed her bangs behind her ear and her eyes smouldered.

"Did he stay last night?" she called after her sister. Gabriella froze in the doorway, her back rigid, but she never turned around. Sharpay continued, her voice flinging words like shrapnel. "Did he?"

"Sharpay, that is enough!" Ryan growled. He was on the floor picking up the larger pieces of glass around Sharpay's feet. "Whatever is going on with you and Troy does not need to involve Ella. No matter the circumstances or what you think is happening, your problem is with Troy."

"No," Sharpay replied, a lazy smile playing on her lips that Ryan and Gabriella had both encountered before. It was usually when she was drunk or when she was trying to convince someone to play nice. It didn't meet her eyes. "Ella is my problem." She swallowed and then sunk to the floor with her back against the cupboard doors. "See, I think my boyfriend is in love with my sister and I think my sister knows he is not in love with me. I'm just trying to figure out if the two of them have been fucking behind my back."

The room went quiet, as if the words were sucked out and funnelled away. Sharpay sat on the floor. Orange juice soaked her pants. She stared straight ahead, out the window, but she could watch Gabriella from the corner of her vision. She hadn't moved. Gabriella stood with both hands at her side and her back still. Sharpay wondered how she could do that—not flinch in discomfort. She couldn't see the tears streaming down Gabriella's face; her hair acted like a curtain. Ryan held the remnants of the glass in his hand, a few feet from Sharpay.

There was a photograph, Sharpay recalled in that moment. It was of the three of them after Gabriella's seventeenth birthday and everyone had left. Jason had offered to stay behind and help clean-up and the photo had been snapped while Ryan, Sharpay and Gabriella sat on the countertop sharing stale and leftover pretzels. It was on Gabriella's desk, Sharpay remembered blankly. It seemed so long ago.

It was Ryan who finally moved, breaking their frozen state. He dumped the glass in the garbage can and picked up a dish towel. Sharpay turned her full attention on Gabriella. She had nothing left to say. She could scream and yell but what good would it do? Sharpay hadn't realized that she had said Gabriella's name or called her attention until Gabriella responded quietly.

"It's fine. I'll get the broom." Sharpay noticed how flat her voice went. She looked so tiny in her pyjama pants and baggy sweatshirt. Her hair dwarfed her face as she glanced back and connected her gaze with Sharpay's. For the first time since she started dating Troy, Sharpay noticed her sister. She looked tired, was the brief thought that swept through Sharpay.

"Ella?" Sharpay called again and Gabriella turned, ready to take the brunt of another attack. "I-," Sharpay stumbled. "I'm sorry."

Gabriella nodded stiffly, tugging at the hem of her sweater. She looked away and was almost out of the room before she responded. "He didn't stay. I told him to go home."

Sharpay had fled the kitchen by the time Gabriella returned with the broom, but she stayed at the top of the step. With her head leaning against the railing and her ears straining to hear, Sharpay made note that Gabriella and Ryan didn't speak as they cleaned up her mess.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

There was comfort in the silence of the guys' locker room at East High. With the lights dimmed and the air rank with stale sweat and cheap shampoo they all shared without permission when their teammates turned their backs, the noise of the gym, of the school hallways, of teachers and peers and classmates yammering in classrooms and cafeterias and outside on bleachers disappeared. Inside the cement walls of the locker room, nothing mattered but what lay ahead or behind the team.

If it was a game looming beyond the hallway that led to the gym and the bleachers, Troy would linger behind as long as possible, steadying his nerves and his breaths as the team chanted and charged out to the screaming crowds. Troy would use the calm to ease his anxiety, preparing himself for the game to come; for the blows he would take and the decisions he would have to make. For the two pairs of brown eyes that would follow his fluid movements on the court and the stare that could burn the space between his shoulder blades until his desire for her would override his desire to win.

He had blown games because of her, although she would never know that. Her presence was comforting as well as distracting, protective and encouraging while also stressful and intense. Every basket he made was to impress her and make her proud. Every bounce of the ball was like a pounding reminder of a ticking clock and how little time they had before life got more complicated. Every time she sat beside Taylor who wore Chad's jersey, Troy was reminded that Gabriella should be wearing his. Every time Sharpay hinted that she'd like to, Troy was reminded that he wanted it to be Gabriella. His routine had been moulded around finding her in the crowd before the game, never once allowing himself to look for her after the buzzer signalled the tip off. If he did, he lost the very will to play and all he wanted was her.

If the game was behind him, the scoreboard bearing the final numbers for the evening, Troy would remain in the locker room until the last player left. Even Chad knew not to wait for him. He would undress and shower with precision, replaying every foul, every slip up, every mistake of the game. He would analyze his performance, and then each player on the team. He would recall the faces of the scouts in the bleachers, and the way Gabriella looked fresh in sparkling white with red accents. He would smile as he slipped into his clothes and methodically put his gear away in his locker, slamming the door shut with an echoing clang. The lights would begin clicking off as the custodian ushered students and parents out of the building. Troy would grab his bag and leave quietly by way of the back entrance. If a celebration was in order, he would join once he was outside, but to Troy, the inside of the gym and East's hallways were sacred and the balance of excellence needed to be kept and revered. Inside was for contemplation and quiet.

Gabriella would meet him by his truck, parked under the lamplights of the parking lot, within the shadow of East High. If they had won, Sharpay would be with her and the three of them would toss Troy's gear in the flat bed, and then rejoin their friends for an after party or pizza. If they had lost, she would be alone; the only one brave enough to deal with his disappointment and possible frustrations. People would question it, find it odd that Sharpay never indicated that she'd rather be the one to comfort him or listen to him rant. People gossiped about it, but no one ever said it in Troy's presence.

Like the dressing room rituals, the parking lot was another one.

* * *

Troy knew she was waiting outside the heavy metal door of the locker room for his teammates to leave. All but Chad had showered and dressed, shoved their gear into their lockers and slammed the doors shut, then left to join the buzzing, cheering crowds of East High supporters in the gym. After parties were being organized. Plays were being assessed for what would be useful in next week's exhibition game as the basketball team had yet to enter the official season. Parents were congratulating players.

Troy knew the routine of a post win for his team.

She knew as well.

He had been quiet ever since leaving the gym. The game had gone well and he had been able to focus enough to fool most people into thinking he was giving it his all—or enough that he didn't need to push his limits. The team they had played was new to the division and had only begun a basketball program a year earlier. Troy had required little effort to challenge them. It had been good for the team to take chances and see who would do what without Troy needing to dominate the plays. It had given him a chance to watch the crowd. To watch them.

Gabriella had arrived with Taylor and Kelsi, just before tipoff. Troy had followed her from the corner of his eye as the three girls gently manoeuvred their way through the people to the empty seats beside Martha Cox. Gabriella's outfit of white blended easily with those around her, but didn't hide her from Troy. Even if he did have a nagging suspicion that that had been her intention. She hadn't talked to him in almost a week; since the weekend when she had expelled him from her room after the movie.

Sharpay had watched her reach her seat as well, then turned away, as Troy's eyes left Gabriella to seek her sister`s reaction. He had seen Sharpay already seated when the team entered the court. Sitting high on the bleachers between Ryan and Mrs Montez-Evans, her hoodie zipped up and her hair in a limp ponytail, Troy internally cringed at the black sunglasses covering her eyes. A flicker of irritation rose in his belly then, wondering why she needed them. He knew from Taylor and the way Gabriella and Sharpay were behaving that something had happened between them but Troy`s opinion on the glasses was that they were simply drawing even more attention to her than the possible-but-not-likely blotchy cheeks and red eyes. Troy knew Sharpay and even the possibility of crying in public would be enough to keep her away from the game.

And now she was outside the locker room waiting for him. Fucking with the system. His system. Basketball was never something they shared. She came to the games because she was supposed to, not because she wanted to. He knew that. The same as why he went to her musical performances. It was supportive and encouraging, not enjoyable. Gabriella was different. She understood the game and the pace and the players and the heartbreak of losing. She understood Troy and the different emotions that could erupt after a game. If they were keeping up the facade of normalcy, both sisters should be outside. But Troy had seen Sharpay leave her seat just before the buzzer ended the game and walk purposefully not to the door leading to the parking lot where parents and students would swarm, but to the door that lead to the back hallway.

She was going to wait for him, and Troy knew nothing good would come of it. Not with her hood pulled up and her lips void of lipgloss.

He had continued on through the final seconds of the game without a hitch. In the locker room he had delivered a perfectly articulated and concise pep talk about a job well done but not jumping on high horses any time soon. He made Jason swear not to let him mother wash his socks again and he told Jimmy Zara to stop muttering hopeful wishes under his breath like 'break your leg so I can play' or 'that's it, yell and get pulled off the court'. He waited until the players began arguing over showers and mirror space and demanding stolen boxers be returned, and then he began rehashing the game. His routine was everything and whether or not Sharpay knew he was prolonging their meeting, he was sticking to the routine.

Thankfully, Chad was extra slow tonight. He took the time to control his hair with product and dry off so his clothes didn't stick to him. He laced up his sneakers so Taylor wouldn't make a snarky comment before kissing him. He made sure all of his gear was in his locker and he had the right books for homework—it was only Thursday. Troy willed him to move like molasses or a turtle, anything to prolong having to leave behind him. In the end, when Chad finally swung his bag over his shoulder and left, Troy was sitting on the bench with his jeans and polo on, sneakers on his feet and back pack beside him. His hair was still damp and he hadn't bothered with cologne, but he had no excuse to stay.

He heard Chad's voice dimly from the doorway behind the rows of lockers. Sighing, he bent to pick up his bag. Something stopped him. Looking up, his heart squeezed and faltered within his chest. Sharpay was standing in front of him, her arms crossed and hugging herself as if trying to keep everything in place. Her usual stance of one popped hip was missing. Neither said a word.

How had they gotten here? He had never seen this coming. Yes, it was his fault. Yes, he knew what he was doing all those months ago and yet did it anyway. But how did it get to this? He had thought Gabriella was lost to him. The look on her face, the horror when he proclaimed his love—he had misread all of it. He didn't see that she was scared or worried or surprised. All of his insecurities about telling her and confessing to her had reared their head and told him she was uninterested. She didn't want him. She was turning him down. He had listened to them foolishly.

He wanted to love Sharpay. She wasn't supposed to be a distraction. She was supposed to be a second chance. Troy had heard all of the time about people who went on dates just to break up the monotony, or people who had awkward starts and then fell in love, or people who were forced together and grew to love. He could do that with Sharpay, that's what he wanted with Sharpay. Why couldn't he love her? That's why they were here. Because Troy had wanted Gabriella, and Sharpay had wanted Troy, and in the end, Troy had been happy to give Sharpay what she wanted. He hadn't succeeded. He couldn't give her what she wanted because she wasn't what he wanted. It was a horrible awful cycle that was impossible to break without breaking someone.

Troy had supposed that the person who would break would be Sharpay. Now, he wondered.

"I feel stupid doing this because everyone seems to know it's over anyway. It feels pointless to state the obvious, but if I don't, I'm not sure I will ever feel sure about anything anymore." Sharpay's voice was soft, void of her usual sarcasm or double meanings or quotable quotes from movies and love stories. "So, we are breaking up and I am going to be the one to do it. Let me be the one to do it."

"I think you just did," Troy answered bitterly, thinking of how many times he had tried since the rooftop and how many times she had managed to push it aside thanks to a bell or a phone call or a friend interrupting. He softened his voice though when he thought of who really had the right to be angry. "Thank you, Pay, for understanding."

"For understanding?" she barked, her voice thick and her cheeks flushed. "You think I am doing this because I understand? I don't understand fuck, Troy. I don't understand why you slept with me and made me love you. I don't understand why you didn't have the balls to end this months ago. I don't understand why Ella has become a ghost and I never saw it. I don't understand why it's suddenly her."

"I can explain-," he began, desperately trying to put his thoughts to words so he could make her see. Make her not hate him. Or worse, make her not hate Gabriella.

"I don't want you to explain. Maybe another time, maybe someday, but not right now. Right now I want to be angry with you." Tears were streaming down her face. Funny, he thought, she's going to need those sunglasses now. "I just want to know when. Tell me when."

"When, what?" he asked, making the decision to just give her what she wanted. Anything. All of the truth, none of the truth. He wasn't going to hold anything back if that's what she asked of him.

"When you realized you loved her."

"November." His heart was pounding so fast he thought it would explode. No matter how many times he had pushed himself on the court, nothing felt like this.

"And when did she know? When did you tell her?" Sharpay was hugging herself so hard that it looked like she was folding in half.

"May." He answered softly, seeing when the answer slammed into her. Saw the realization on her face when she realized he had meant last November. "I told her in May. She didn't believe me, or want to believe me then. She told me I had ruined everything. The next night she had a date and we fought. She said that my confession hadn't changed anything except us and she left. You came down just as she was leaving and asked if I wanted to watch a movie."

"The night that we-? You told her the night before we-?" Sharpay was white faced. "How could you? I heard you in the entry and thought you meant me! I thought you had told her you were in love with me! And I thought she was mad because she wouldn't get you as much!"

"I wanted to love you!" Troy yelled back, tears stinging his eyes. "I wanted to so much. You were there that night and you weren't rejecting me. You weren't telling me it was wrong or disastrous, you were feeling the same as me. We both wanted someone who couldn't return our feelings. I just thought I could make myself love you. Why shouldn't I? I tried, Pay, I did."

"And when you didn't learn to?" she asked bitterly. "When you couldn't get her out of your head and when you could hear her laugh in your mind? When she came back from Oregon and you saw her every single day and were reminded of how much more you wanted her than me? What then?"

"That's when everything fell apart," Troy admitted.

Nothing was said for what seemed like hours. Troy watched her as she tried to sort through everything he had given her—asked and unasked. Wanted and unwanted. Truth and more truth. He waited for her to break. He waited for her to prove that they had been right to protect her, that they were doing more harm than good by letting her know everything. Finally she lifted her head and met his gaze, watching for when he flinched.

"Does she love you?" she asked, her voice rock steady as if she was anticipating an answer.

He hesitated and while that was answer enough, Troy saw the need to voice the truth. To spill everything, keep nothing. His silence had given Sharpay a moment to brace herself. "Yes. She does."

Sharpay closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, Troy waited again for her to crack. "Tomorrow, when we go to school and people ask, you will tell them I broke up with you. I don't care what they know and what they gossip about, I broke up with you. You don't get to have that. You get the happiness and the fucking birdies and fucking Gabriella, but you don't get the break up. I do."

"Yes." He couldn't think of anything else to say. He would have preferred to say nothing but it was a deal, a contract, and he had every reason to agree with her.

"Tomorrow I get to be the brave one, the strong one, the one not clinging to broken pieces and shattered and fractured shards of everything we know. Tomorrow, you will let me have that dignity and so will Gabriella." Venom.

"Pay, she'll give you whatever you want, I promise." Troy wanted to hug her. He wanted to cram her to his chest and make sure she felt what he was feeling so she understood.

"Don't make promises for my sister, Troy. Especially one she can't keep." She turned towards the door, the maze behind the lockers. She stopped in the shadows. "She can't give me you. She can't give me a lot of things anymore. She's given them to you."

Troy heard the door swing closed behind her, felt the air change. He gave himself nearly a half hour to gather his things and quell the shaking in his hands. When he was ready, he left through the door to the gym, crossed the court in near blackness aside from emergency lights, and pushed open the back exit to the parking lot. The air was cold and froze against his damp skin still warm from sweat and nerves. His truck was alone in the lot, everyone long gone. He threw his bag in the back and pulled open the driver's door.

Gabriella was asleep in the front seat, her head resting against the rough upholstery. Troy saw the phone in her hand, the tear tracks on her cheeks, and then he saw the tail lights of a nearly black sports car pull out of the lot nearest the driveway entrance.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

The phonecalls had begun in the eighth grade when homework suddenly became important, complicated and worthy of being deemed a crisis. She would find herself getting ready for bed, favourite green pyjamas on and teeth brushed, when suddenly the phone would shrill loudly and her mother would call up from the lower level of the house that it was Troy. She would put down the book she was reading and pick up the cordless handset from the nightstand, talking him through his homework with even patience and careful explaining. Twenty minutes later, she would hang up and continue her reading.

When all three Montez-Evans children got cell phones as a 'now we have something we can take away if you start flunking' gift for the first day of ninth grade, the evening phonecalls stopped coming on the landline and appeared on the cell phone bill instead. Vance and Maria never even blinked, shrugging and telling Gabriella to keep an eye on her available minutes. Without the threat of waking the household or incurring the wrath of her parents, the phonecalls came later and later each night and lasted longer and longer. No longer needing a reason to explain calling at nine o'clock, homework became only one of the many reasons Troy would call.

Sometimes it was about homework— an assignment that had been left to the last minute or a question about the material being studied for a test the next day. Other times it was a post-date inquiry or venting session, a rant about the basketball team and his dad riding his ass. She would talk about her parents, the horrid maid they had hired or some lame argument with Taylor over the five percent difference on their chemistry labs. For hours, they would talk about anything, everything and absolutely nothing except how they had nothing to talk about. They would fight on the phone, cry on the phone, apologize on the phone and joke on the phone.

The night after Troy slept with Sharpay, he called Gabriella. She hung up. He had called a total of fifteen times that night before going to her balcony with the intention of talking to her. On the ground underneath her patio doors, in pieces, he had found her cell phone. The four nights that followed until Gabriella got a new cell phone were the longest nights of his life. It was still another week before she would answer him long enough to ask him to stop calling, not that he did. Even in Oregon, she would wake up to find her cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. She never answered while she was there, but each morning she would find a voicemail from Troy.

When school resumed and Gabriella returned, the calls were shorter and more sporadic as Sharpay occupied their usual air time. Gabriella told herself it was good and that it served as a way to distance herself from Troy, but she still found herself awake at midnight, hoping her sister would go to bed early so her own cell phone would ring. The calls had picked up after that week home alone, the way they had been before senior year when Troy and Gabriella would talk for hours about nothing in particular. In person, they were forced to confront their situation and their feelings. On the phone, they could pretend they were fifteen again with nothing more to worry about than math tests and book reports.

On the phone, they didn't have to see the broken pieces of their lives.

* * *

Gabriella didn't say anything when Troy drove her home from East High after the basketball game. He had gently woke her up and slid into the driver's seat as she leaned back against the passenger door, eyes shut, clutching her cell phone in both hands against propped knees. The streetlights illuminated the wet tracks down her cheeks and although Troy opened his mouth to ask her the question, his heart told him not to. He wasn't sure he could bear to hear the pain in her voice when she spoke the answer. So he asked nothing and she told him nothing, although he noticed how she kept hitting the keys on her phone to keep the screen from going dark.

As they turned into the gated subdivision, Troy heard a sound to his right. Gabriella was biting her lip and squeezing her phone, an arm wrapped around her knees. He slowed the truck, creeping along the double wide street built for Hummers and Escalades and Mercedes. Reaching out a hand, he settled it on the upholstery beside her hip. The arm unwrapped her knees and reached to grasp his fingers instead.

"Ella?" he asked timidly, turning his eyes from the street for a moment to watch her leave the phone in her lap and clap a hand to her mouth the stifle the sobs. "Ella, it's going to be okay. We'll get through it." He guided the truck to the curb a few houses away from the circular driveway of the Evans'. Sliding over to be beside her, he gripped her hand tighter. "We can do this—we'll get out of this mess. We're in this together."

Gabriella was sobbing, her small frame vibrating the intensity of the racking cries that shuddered through her as everything within her broke or melted or split. Troy watched helplessly as she came apart. The tears that splashed his skin were hot, but her hands were freezing in his grasp. He smoothed her hair away from her face. She flinched. Still, though, she said nothing.

"Ella, talk to me. Please, just tell me what to do and I will do it. I will kiss it away, I will hug it away, I will drop you off at your front door and leave. Just tell me what to do." Troy pleaded, running through who to call to help him, give him advice, sooth the pounding rush of his blood or the unnatural quakes from Gabriella.

He ran out of people. He had thought, considered and rejected all of his options. The first 3 had been who he would always call: Ryan, Sharpay, or Mrs. Evans. The next handful were friends. Taylor, Kelsi and Martha. Troy couldn't call them. Chances are, Sharpay already had. Looking at Gabriella, Troy realized why her heart was breaking. The bridges were burned and they were alone.

"Ella, look at me." His words were stern and his voice made her look up with bloodshot eyes in deathly pale face. "You and I are in this together. We're strong and we can do this. You can do this. I know it hurts. I know right now you'd rather be anywhere but right here, but I am going to drive you home and you will walk in that door and go upstairs. You are going to let tonight sink in and then tomorrow we will face this together. Alright?"

He thought he detected a nod before putting the truck into gear and rolling the couple of meters to the end of the Evans' driveway. Gabriella shivered and stared vacantly up the walk to the house blaring with lights. Troy waited, edgy and anxious, as she quietly pushed the door opened and dropped to the ground. The window was down so that even when she closed the door with a noticeable bang, she could still hear him.

"I love you, El." Troy heard the high note of desperation but didn't wince. He watched her walk painfully up the cobbled walk to the alighted front door.

In all of his nightmares of what he and Gabriella would do to Sharpay, he never expected to see them reappear on Gabriella.

When she was finally in the house, Troy drove home and in the driveway, let his own heart break.

* * *

The entry was empty but voices came to her from rooms higher up. Silently, she shut the door behind her and removed her shoes. Her phone was in her pocket and she hadn't brought a wallet, so Gabriella wrapped her arms around her torso and willed herself to still the shivering of her body as she climbed the stairs. Avoiding the steps that were known to squeak, she had made it to the mid landing of the third floor before her mother called to her from somewhere near Sharpay's room. Nearly hidden by the steps and the railing, Gabriella was at the door to her room at the top of the stairs before Maria called to her again.

"Gabriella? Is that you?" The daughter said nothing, but not even world class architects could have built floors thick enough to mask the angry words that were shouted to her. Maria's soft voice was masked, but Gabriella felt her knees wobble as she rushed to shut her bedroom door and shed her coat before crawling into bed still dressed.

"Gabriella?" her mother knocked, but didn't enter. "Sharpay said that—she, uh, told Ryan and I that you and-" There was a pause. "She's upset, Ella."

Black curls cascading down her back and tangling on the pillow, Gabriella bit her pillow and tried not to call out. She didn't deserve her sympathy or touch or warmth, which she would surely give her out of motherly duty. Sharpay deserved her more. And Ryan. Sharpay would get Ryan. Bitterly, Gabriella began going through her list of who would choose the side of Sharpay. The broken princess. Taylor, ever righteous and probably annoyed by Chad's loyalty. Kelsi, who as timid as she was, would be harsh in judging Gabriella's betrayal. Martha who knew what it was like to find out your love was misplaced.

Then there was Zeke, who had always harboured a crush for Sharpay and thought no one knew. Jason would try to straddle the middle but would be angry with Troy's lack of communication. Chad would...Gabriella didn't know what Chad would do. Support her surely, but openly defend them? He had already sacrificed enough.

"Gabriella, I want to come in." Maria was still at the door.

"No," Gabriella croaked, her voice thick and hoarse from tears and salt. "Just-," her voice pitched with a swell of tears, "Just go to Sharpay."

Footsteps on the landing meant she was alone.

She stayed there all night, with the covers pulled up to her neck and the button of her jeans digging in just below her belly button. She was hot but still shivered at the thought of facing the people outside. At some point between putting her sweaty, frizzy hair into a ponytail and dropping her earrings on the bedside table, Ryan came to the door. Gabriella recognized the weight of his footsteps on the landing and she held her breath as she waited for the knock. When it didn't come, and he turned away and left, Gabriella realized she had no more tears left to cry.

Later, after Vance had knocked to see if she was still awake (she faked sleeping with her face away from the door), and Maria entered to leave a glass of water on the nightstand (again, she pretended to sleep), Gabriella fished her cell phone from the pocket of the coat she had left on the floor. Her alarm clock read 3:45am and Gabriella's limbs and eyelids felt like they were weighted down with sand. Her stomach squirmed with rigid muscle and anxiety, her chest felt like bricks were stacked on top of her. She felt empty, alone and horribly guilty. No matter how many times she brought Troy's face to mind, Gabriella couldn't see how she would ever be happy. How any of them would be happy.

Holding her phone under the covers, Gabriella activated the screen. Her silent ringer had kept the number of incoming calls a secret. Two from her mother after the basketball game (was that only last night?), and another during the drive home with Troy. Gabriella had sent a reply text saying not to worry and then ignored the rest as they came tumbling in. One from Vance before she got home, two from the home phone afterwards (clearly they had thought to trick her into talking when the door knocking didn't work), Two from Chad, one from Taylor and five from Troy. No one had texted, so Gabriella dialled her voicemail and shut her eyes to listen.

'Gabriella, it's Mom. Ryan just got home and you're not with him. I thought you were catching a ride with him. Call me and tell me where you are.'

'Gabriella, it has been over an hour and your sister thinks you're with Troy. Can you please call us and let us know if you are with him or another friend? Your mother is worried sick.'

'Ella, it's Troy. People are calling me to find out what happened but I don't have anything to tell them. I never asked you how you found out before I came out of the locker room. Not that you would have answered me. Ella, what did she say to you? Because all I can think of is that Sharpay told you and that's what made you so upset in the truck. Ellie, call me, please. Or text me. Just something.'

'Gabi? Your mom called and said you won't answer the door or the phone. Obviously she was right. I know you probably feel terrible but you can't hole yourself up in your room. Sharpay needs to—Actually, it doesn't matter. Just let someone know you're alive.'

'El, do you want a drive to school tomorrow? I'll swing by in the truck if you call me early enough.'

'El? It's Chad. Troy just called and told me what happened. Or what happened with him and Sharpay. He doesn't know what happened before that or how you found out. He's worried. So is your mom. She called me trying to reach Troy. Just...you can do this. It will get better.'

'Ella, I'm leaving my phone on all night if you need me. Just call. Remember what I said.'

Gabriella stopped listening after awhile. When the new messages stopped, and she had deleted each one in succession, her thumb hesitated over the button for skipped messages. Troy had asked what Sharpay had said to her and Gabriella had found it odd that she couldn't remember. Bits and pieces flashed around in her brain, but they melded with how Gabriella had imagined the inevitable conversation would always go. She wasn't sure what Sharpay's words had been; she just knew they had hurt.

Sharpay had called during the basketball game; Gabriella remembered that. She had felt her phone vibrate during the final five minutes of the game and had thought that Sharpay was asking if she wanted a drive home from her and Ryan, or their mother. In the span of processing that her sister had called, Gabriella had watched Troy pass the ball to Zeke who caught his own rebound off of the rim and scored. The gymnasium was so loud it would have been stupid to try and answer her phone and be heard. Looking back, Sharpay had probably intended that. Her voicemail was so clear and precise and rehearsed that Gabriella had been stunned. Another thing she remembered, Gabriella thought as she impulsively hit the button. With the first words, she considered hanging up, but found she couldn't.

'Ella, its me. I hope your voicemail is as good as mine because I don't think you will want to listen to this in three separate sections. I want you to listen, and then I don't want you to call me. I don't want to see you until I have to. I wish I had more control over it, but homeroom is tomorrow and I know we will both be there. So allow me the twelve hours of pretending you don't exist until then.

He loves you. I saw it last week and realized I had seen it before. I don't know what happened with us or why, all I know is that everything I thought was for sure is coming apart and showing me a tangled bunch of threads that I don't know what to do with. I don't know how to fix this. I want to fix you and me. I don't know if I can fix me and Troy.

He's been trying to break up with me for months. All the unanswered calls and skipped date nights and excuses. The trip to Oregon. He's been avoiding me to make it obvious so when he finally does it, he thinks it will be easier. Maybe it was a good plan, but I was more attached or desperate to make things work that he realized. Maybe I have been the one to make this so hard. If I am, I am sorry only because I hate that it makes me look desperate. I was stupid, not desperate. I am not sorry for you or him.

I didn't expect you to answer; Zeke just scored and from where I am standing, you seem completely unaware that I even called. That's fine. By the time the gym clears, you will be outside by Troy's truck. I told Mom that you would find a drive home with one of us, but in truth, you will be better off waiting for Troy. He will meet you at the truck after I talk to him. I'm ending it, Ella, for good. I don't know what's between you and Troy, or if he's been truthful with you, but I do know that I cannot stand to be in the same room with him or you. I can't stand thinking of all those times I wasn't there. I can't stand to let my mind wander to places that make me feel angry and guilty at the same time.

After tonight, he will be yours because deep down, despite all of your perfectly worded answers, I think that's what you both want.

I hope it was worth it."

Oddly, the tears didn't come like last time. She had gone to Troy's truck like always, expecting to see Sharpay already there like winning tradition warranted. When she didn't show and the parking lot was emptying quickly, Gabriella had pulled out her phone to call her. The voicemail had been the result. Troy never locked the truck and after sitting on the ground against the front wheel, Gabriella had somehow managed to pull herself into the front cab where she could hide from passing players and classmates. Tucked among the shadows and the cool air, Gabriella had seen Sharpay leave the gym and walk towards Ryan's idling car several feet away. She didn't remember Troy getting in the truck later or that Ryan's car didn't leave until they saw Troy come out to her, but she remembered the tears and the pain.

It was all gone now. The pain replaced by a steady feeling of the need to throw up, a pounding headache that reminded her that sleep was impossible and a numbness that made moving or thinking feel like swimming through peanut butter. Perhaps it was all a dream.

Except it wasn't. She knew that.

And only dreams had happily ever afters.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

She had fond memories of playing dress-up with Gabriella. Over the years the two of them managed to collect an entire antique chest of items, the contents spilling out in a mix match of satin and tulle whenever the lid was thrown back. Strands of multi-coloured beads that had been souvenirs from Mardi-Gras and fake pearls purchased at the department store were tangled among the plastic heels of too-big shoes with Disney princess heads stickered on the toes and old high heels from their grandmother's youth. Hats with feathers that had held no purpose when they were bought other than to finally give them a home with seven-year-olds had matching boas that were just as outrageous. Bedazzled purses and gigantic sunglasses with plastic frames and no style were tangled with the hair clips and bangled bracelets.

And then there were the dresses. Some had been sewn by Maria and Sharpay's grandmother during moments in girls' younger years for Halloween, others had been purchased from upscale costume shops for no reason but to add variety and fun to the already full dress-up chest. Party dresses with pink ruffles and purple crinolines sparkled in the bright sun of the play room, coats and skirts modelled after the twenties were cut down to fit the little girls and discarded ballerina tutus that were only worn for one performance had a second chance. Hours could be spent alternating clothing and accessories, dressing one another like they were life-sized Barbie dolls. Even Ryan could locate a sword and pirate hat or cowboy boots amongst the piles of fabric.

Her favourite memory was from when Gabriella convinced Ryan, Chad and Troy to join them in putting on a play about three boys who were hiding from the mob (or whoever that old man on her dad's movie was that spoke with a funny accent) by dressing as girls. Years later, Sharpay still had no idea whether Gabriella was having innocent fun and simply made up the elaborate plot, or if she had been scheming the entire time on how to get them into dresses. It didn't matter though, because Maria had the picture somewhere of all five of them dressed to the nines with hats and shoes to match, complete with blush that Gabriella had uncovered in the bathroom vanity.

As they grew, the dress-up chest was put away and the beads were replaced with necklaces and the plastic shoes were replaced with Prada and Gucci and Jimmy Choo in their closets. The only one who wore a hat was Sharpay with her bright pink, floppy sun hat and pashmina scarves took the place of feather boas. The girls no longer needed a dress-up box, their closets became miniature department stores with all the latest styles that they could throw on and cast off just as quickly while getting ready to go. Instead of modelling themselves after Barbie, they looked to Cosmo Girl and Teen magazine.

And yet, there were still times when Sharpay would find herself eight years old again, standing in front of a mirror at the hottest boutique in Albuquerque, feeling like a princess in satin and lace and glitter. Her middle school graduation with the pleated skirt and matching blazer and half-inch heeled shoes that made her feel like she was ready for high school. Her first homecoming court, in the yellow satin, one shoulder-strapped dress that brushed the floor and came with a brooch that gathered the waist. Her Junior prom, in perfect pink, that turned heads when she walked in the gym. There should be another dress, another dress-up moment where being a fairy princess wouldn't be so impossible, but it was beyond her reach now.

The idea of approaching the cheerleaders manning the Homecoming Ticket booth and asking for only one made the tears threaten. The blue dress, chosen just for Troy with his eyes in mind appeared cheap and flimsy on the hanger and would be outshone by Gabriella no matter what she decided to wear. Sharpay didn't believe her when she said she wasn't going. She didn't believe anything anymore. No world of unicorns and pixies, no castle where the beds were made of flowers and the rain never came, and no fairytale princes and princesses.

No dress in the world would cover her broken heart.

* * *

She left the house early—two hours early. She wondered if the school would even be open but it was a chance she was willing to take. Slipping out of the house, Gabriella didn't look behind her as she hurried to her car in the driveway and slid behind the wheel. Sharpay had gone to the game with Ryan because Gabriella had blocked her in and then left with Taylor. She had felt bad last night, but now she saw it as a blessing, face expressionless as she reversed out of the driveway and made sure not to hit Ryan's car beside her.

Sleep had evaded her all night, causing her to turn over the events of the last year in her mind over and over until it was a film strip without bumps or glitches. Seamless. One continuing set of events that flowed into one another. At dawn, Gabriella had given up and slipped into the shower. If it woke anyone, they didn't bother to discover the source or seek her out. She brushed her hair and let it hang damp down her shoulders. She smoothed on moisturizer, forgoing makeup when it looked like it wasn't going to cover up anything.

Despite her urge to wear sweats and a tank top to school and not care about what anyone said, Gabriella knew better. She had no right to act like the wounded person in the whole sordid mess and if Gabriella could still predict anything about her sister, it was that only when hell froze over would Sharpay show up at school in anything more casual than dark wash jeans. Therefore Gabriella listlessly pulled on a pair of faded straight legged jeans and a fitted white t-shirt. Then she searched around at the back of her drawer for the red East High hoodie with the white embroidered wildcat on the back that she had bought for student council the year before. Back in the bathroom she had brushed her teeth and then swept her mostly dried hair up in a messy bun before silently creeping down the stairs to the back door with her backpack and black flats in her hands.

Pulling into the parking lot at East, Gabriella sat in the car and gazed at the looming sets of double red doors. Panic welled up inside her and fidgeted with the simple chain around her neck with the triangle pendent. Squashing her nerves, she pulled down the visor and smoothed back some stray tendrils. Reaching in the glove box, she pulled out a tube of clear lipgloss and smoothed it on dry lips. Sucking in a shaky breath, Gabriella left the car and climbed the steps to school. She would hide in the library until homeroom.

Just as she let the door close behind her, Gabriella caught sight of Troy's truck entering the parking lot for early morning practice.

* * *

The heavy front doors slamming behind her felt like prison bars sliding into place. She felt exposed, vulnerable. It was like a thousand pairs of eyes were staring at her despite there being only four other people rushing to class with her. Sharpay lifted a hand to her hair, straightening already perfect waves. Thinking of nothing else to stall with, Sharpay gripped the strap on her purse tightly and began the customary walk to home room. The whispers rippled ahead of her like wild fire as the hallway became more crowded the farther she got from the main doors, for this morning there was no Troy Bolton waiting at a locker with his friends and there was no Gabriella Montez-Evans matching steps with Sharpay.

Instead it was her brother who met her at the row of lockers and blocked their classmates' view of her as she inhaled shaky breaths to steady herself after the second round of defiance, of bowing to the expectation of the jilted lover. The first round had been her self-imposed rule to not go to school looking like crap. In the full length pink sparkled mirror on the inside of her locker door, Sharpay eyed herself critically. Her dark wash jeans were classically fitted and perfectly paired with a scoop necked white t-shirt and a soft grey cardigan that fell to her mid thigh. Her simple diamond studs glinted through the loose waves of her hair and no one doubted they were real; they complimented the understated sparkle that edged the neckline and buttons of her sweater. Black heels completed the outfit that had taken hours to put together.

Sharpay decided that the walk to homeroom was the equivalent of being led to the executioner's platform. Students stepping out of her way were usual, but the hesitation and the looks of pity were not. The whispers were sent ahead along the line, some reaching her and causing her cheeks to blush against her wishes. Ryan squeezed her hand in support. She kept her head up, her eyes fixed on the end of the hallway, her face impassive and. The closer she got to the door, the more Sharpay was aware that her footsteps were creating a warning to those inside already. In her ears, Sharpay felt like her shoes were pounding out her own battle rhythm, she wondered if it sounded ominous to Troy and Gabriella. She wanted them to know she was there. She wanted their hearts to pound in sync.

Ms. Darbus, in the typical response of a teacher who does not let her students remember that Jack Bolton knew everything that went on in the senior class, did not look up at Sharpay and Ryan's entrance any longer than required to make the necessary tick on the attendance list. Sharpay paused for a moment and scanned the room. Taylor was in the third row, pointing to the seat next to her with a small smile. Chad had boxed himself into the back corner with a scowl on his face that dared everyone to try and talk to him. Even Troy was three seats away from his co-captain with his head bent while he worked on math homework. Ryan took his place beside Kelsi, sharing a knowing look that spoke volumes to Sharpay. Her eyes fell upon the tiny figure in the back of the room who held a book but didn't read it. When Sharpay moved to the seat between Zeke and Taylor, Gabriella glanced up.

Sharpay was acutely aware that the homeroom atmosphere was heavy and still that morning. Ms. Darbus buzzed through the announcements in her usual brisk manner, before reminding students of the Drama and English assignments due after the weekend. Sharpay made notes in her agenda, ignoring the tingling feeling of people watching her. A part of her wished she had been able to sit behind Gabriella or Troy, to watch how they responded. There were four minutes remaining when the sound system beeped overhead and Ms Darbus set aside her notes and glared at the two students chatting in the far corner. Sharpay's stomach dropped when the announcement began with the perky voice of Martha Cox. Sharpay hadn't even realized she wasn't in class.

"Good Morning, Wildcats! This announcement is to let me announce the nominations for Homecoming Court before voting begins during first and second period lunch. Ballots and tickets go on sale today and will continue through next week until the game on Thursday, so that gives you seven days! The committee will be taking only cash and you may only vote once for Queen, and the rest of her contingents will be selected by descending number of votes. So drumroll!"

Sharpay would have rolled her eyes in any other circumstance on any other day. Today however, she thought she would puke. Kelsi sent her an encouraging glance. There were anxious giggling from the girls in class and some of the boys sat up with slightly more interest. Martha continued after tapping on the mic five times.

"And our nominations for Court are: Cassidy MacLaughlin, Megan Sparks, Sharpay Montez-Evans, Taylor McKessie, Kelsi Nielsen, Gabriella Montez-Evans and Hayley Fredericks. You know the drill: One queen and two attendants. Their dates will act as King and Princes if the ladies so wish. Thanks for listening and don't forget to vote!"

Martha barely missed being cut off by the bell, which sounded through the school and startled Sharpay who was trying to control the expression on her face. The sunny, sparkly side of her wanted to break out and grin with pleasure at being elected (and most likely going to win) for Homecoming court. But the rest of her was hating how her dream was being crushed by Troy and Gabriella's betrayal. Sharpay had dreams, academic and social. She would graduate in the top percentile, go to university and study theatre and something else. She would also make Homecoming Court two years in a row and the earn Prom Queen crown. However, in her vision, she stood on the football field in her perfect blue gown waving while smiling at Troy who stood beside her. Now, the reality was that if she won Homecoming Queen, she would have to choose a date. The idea repulsed her. It would be another sham, another play act, another lie.

As students packed up their things and slung backpacks over their shoulders, Sharpay diligently placed her pen in her pencil case, closed her agenda and stacked it neatly with her notebook. She dusted an invisible fleck of dust from her shoulder and smoothed her bangs, feeling for flyaways. People were making through the door, joking and laughing as they filed into the pressing throngs of the hallway. Sharpay stood up and straightened the hem of her shirt and joined them, squeezing through the door frame and turning towards the stairs that would lead to the science wing above her.

"Sharpay." She kept going, not wanting to stop in the crowd and not wanting to stop and talk to her. "Sharpay." She began climbing the stairs, pressing against the wall to make room for those people coming down the steps. "Pay, seriously."

At the top of the landing, once she was through the set of doors and into the calmer, quieter hallway that was nearly deserted, Sharpay whirled around.

"Seriously? Don't talk to me in a tone that makes my feelings or my behaviour seem childish or irrational or immature. I thought I made it clear I didn't want to talk to you." Sharpay's words came out in a hiss that was so low only Gabriella would hear her. Anyone walking by though would see the stance and the icy glare. They may even see that tears appeared in Gabriella's eyes almost instantly. Sharpay thought she was going to walk away. She didn't.

"If you are referring to that atrocious and witchy voicemail, then yes. You were crystal clear, Pay," Gabriella replied quietly. "I came to tell you that you can have the Homecoming crown because I'm not letting the nomination stand. Martha's in calculus with me this period and I am telling her I don't accept. I never wanted to go in the first place."

"Excuse me?" Sharpay ground out, her perfectly sculpted teeth that cost thousands of dollars grinding out the words. "I can have the crown?"

"You deserve it more than me and let's face it, it would have been you or me and now you won't have to think about it. It's yours." Gabriella knew the moment when her intentions first sounded cheap and tacky, but the look on Sharpay's face was shattering. Gabriella's stomach dropped out and the air whooshed in her ears. She wanted to go home. She would never have another chance so she whispered what she had wanted to say all along but knew wouldn't be believed. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"I don't want the fucking crown, Gabriella. I wanted the dream. I wanted to wear the perfect dress and have the perfect hair and in the perfect weather wave to cheering crowds as the football guys play their perfect game and the perfect guy stands beside me making me feel special and beautiful. So excuse me if the crown doesn't sound so appealing anymore." Her mouth relaxed into a grim line, and her eyes were staring beyond Gabriella or the hallway. "I will win because people in this school will feel sorry for me. They won't want to push me over the edge. It's not what I wanted, not by a long shot, but even winning by the pity of the masses will be better than winning because you feel pity."

"It's not pity," Gabriella protested softly.

"No? Probably not. It's probably guilt, or regret. Giving me the crown as you so kindly put it is not about me having a shining moment of glory to blot out what has and will remain the shittiest week or month or year of my life, but to make you feel better in doing it. Stop being so righteous, Ella, and just accept it." Sharpay heard the bell ring and hoisted her bag. "You can go to Homecoming or not, I don't care, but if you withdraw your name from the ballot before they tally the votes, then I will never speak to you again."

"Pay-," Gabriella watched as her sister spun on her heel and stormed off, the drumming of her heels on the tiles a solemn sound of loneliness.

Sharpay didn't look back, afraid that if she did, Gabriella would see the tremble of her lip and the tears in her eyes and think there was hope. Sharpay didn't think there was. No sense allowing her to assume false possibilities.


	21. Chapter Twenty

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

Somewhere, hidden amongst the volumes in their massive library, was a worn book of fairytales written and recorded by the Brothers Grimm. It had been discovered one rainy afternoon when desperation to be freed of boredom had driven her to the one room she rarely visited. Gabriella, from whom she borrowed books frequently without having to find them herself, was off at a study session with Chad and Taylor while Ryan had gone with their father to inspect the plans for a new set of golf holes at the country club. Maria had been somewhere in the house, murmuring quietly on the phone in one of the offices and no one seemed to be available. So, Sharpay had wandered the house like Belle in Beauty & the Beast, trying to find something to occupy her time.

She had no idea how it caught her attention, with its red worn cover and black ink sketched cover art, it seemed unremarkable while wedged between an ancient encyclopaedia that lacked a section on World War II and a dog eared copy of the first Nancy Drew novel that one of the maids had brought to Gabriella once. Perhaps it was the fact that she had never noticed the book before or the fact that it still retained some of the gold gilt stamped title along the base that flickered as the lightening thundered outside, but Sharpay had dragged over a stool and pried the storybook from its shelf before curling up and reading it for hours.

The myths and legends and fables contained within its pages were unlike anything Sharpay had ever read. There was glamour and glitz; and diamonds and pearls; and princes and princesses. There were once upon a times and happily ever afters, but the routes were twisted and dark. Sinister, black undertones ran beneath the words and she shivered more than once at the glaring lessons the brothers pulled from the depths of culture and tradition to display to an innocent reader centuries later. Sharpay had never been told of what ran beneath the surface of fairytales; never learned their purpose in society and tradition.

Hansel and Gretel were not just naughty children tempted by candy and gingerbread. They were captured and locked up by a crazy old lady in the woods who enjoyed toying with and eating small children. They kill her by dumping her in a pot and letting her boil. Little Red Riding Hood, the innocent beauty sent to care for grandma with crappy, smelly heathen medicines and alcohol gets tempted by a talking wolf who seems awfully taken with the little girl wearing the daring color red. There are many versions, but they all involve the wolf stalking the child and then a hunter killing him before or after Little Red gets ravaged or eaten. At one point, although Sharpay was horrified to read the words, Little Red was said to help the grandma and the hunter fill the wolf with stones and drop him down a well. In The Little Mermaid, on more than one account that was obviously ignored by Disney, Ariel dies at the hand of her lover or the seawitch or her own hand. No happily ever after for her.

Each word, each line, each plot should have been a bullet to her fantasy future where the prince would sweep her off her feet. When she found herself falling or crushing after a boy, she would be reminded of her mother and the Brothers Grimm fairytale endings and she would run instead of sticking around for the ugly ending. Troy had been different. He was supposed to have been different. He was supposed to be Repunzel's saviour, blind but still searching for her. He was supposed to be the one to discover the secret of the Twelve Dancing Princesses and win her hand, risking his head in the process. He was supposed to be noble and victorious and fight for the girl of his dreams.

And maybe he was all of those things, but not with her. The hard part lay in deciding what part she played in the fairytale she had constructed. If she wasn't the princess, then who was she?

* * *

Ryan lifted his backpack from his shoulder and let it drop from his hand to the polished floor of the entryway. The sound of books colliding with the tile echoed in the empty space as he kicked off his shoes and continued down the hall towards the kitchen at the back of the house, sorting through the pile of envelopes in his hands. The housekeeper had collected the mail that morning and left it on the small table just inside the front door. Standing beside the kitchen counter next to the small dish for spare keys and a notepad that had 'Bringing home dinner, Mom' scrawled across it, Ryan read the addresses and addressees with curiosity and then tossed them aside.

American Express for his parents, investment information for his dad, fliers, a note saying the newspaper subscription would be expiring soon. A letter from Vogue for Gabriella, a letter from California State University which seemed odd to Ryan but he shrugged it off. Universities were always after Gabriella. He set aside another envelope for his mother and then felt a smile bloom across his face at two of the remaining pieces of mail.

"Hey, Pay! You home yet?" he called upstairs via the staircase leading off the adjacent family room. "We've got mail!"

The pounding on the steps alerted him that she had heard and he all but threw the envelope at her when she rounded the corner. After everything that had happened in the last two days Ryan couldn't help but grin at the look of genuine excitement that came over Sharpay's face as she scanned the emblem. Her fingertips slid over the seal with reverence, and her teeth caught her bottom lip. Ryan wanted to urge her to rip it open but he knew what stopped her. She had received a folder and application information from Juilliard at the beginning of the school year with the option to audition. She hadn't heard from them since. Ryan had sent them in tapes from the summer show at the country club and had received his information packet a couple of weeks ago.

"What if—," Sharpay looked over at Ryan and noticed his own letter. "You said we got mail. Did you open yours? What is it?"

"It's the same as yours. Or at least, it's from Juilliard." Ryan's voice was calm. "Ready? We'll do it together just like old times."

Sharpay nodded and in sync, the two siblings ripped open the seal and quickly unfolded the packet of letters. Ryan scanned his and seeing that it was an offer of interest, an invitation to visit the campus and meet with administration, he hurried back to the beginning and began reading every word. Beside him, Sharpay squealed and jumped up and down in place, reading sections out loud.

"We greatly appreciated your pre-audition submission tapes and would like to discuss a personal visit to our campus in the new year..." Sharpay smiled at Ryan. "They want to see more, Ry! They want to see me! What does yours say? Tell me it's the same. Tell me!"

"Calm down, Pay, geez," Ryan joked, happy that she was momentarily excited over something. "Yes, it's the same." He tossed his letter in the air and picked her up to spin her around. "We could be going to Juilliard!"

"Listen!" She exclaimed, reading more from her letter. "We are very excited to welcome you and your fellow students from East High to an information session that will be conducted at East High in January. We will be in contact with you before then." Ryan saw Sharpay's brows pull together. "Does that mean they are looking at other students? Who else would there be?"

"Maybe Kelsi?" Ryan suggested, shrugging.

"Was there anything else for me?" Sharpay asked, not able to erase her smile. Despite all of her talk about not wanting to go far away from her siblings or Troy, Sharpay had wanted Juilliard. Factors may have caused her to choose to go elsewhere, but getting in had meant more than going. Now that it was seemingly more and more a possibility, Juilliard was like a glowing beacon for achievement. Shuffling through the pile Ryan had created on the table, Sharpay frowned and Ryan moved closer as she pulled a slender envelope that had been tucked into the fliers for the local grocery store. After opening and closing her mouth, Ryan took the envelope from her. "What the fuck is that?" Sharpay demanded, backing away from the object in Ryan's hand.

"It's a letter, Pay," Ryan responded quietly, reading the address. It was for Gabriella and it from Juilliard. Ryan felt his belly tighten and dread sink in. All the sparkle was washed from Sharpay's face.

"Why is Juilliard writing to Gabriella? She's not interested in Juilliard. She hasn't performed in almost a year outside of some of the classes we did for fun and the talent show." Her breath came in sharp gasps. "She wouldn't have applied."

"Maybe Ms Darbus recommended her," Ryan said in a low voice. Looking up he saw the question in Sharpay's eyes. "We can't open it Sharpay; you know that." Sharpay seemed resolved to waiting but then surprised Ryan by reaching out and grabbing the letter. "Pay! What are you doing?"

"Fuck what I can and can't do. She can break my heart? I can open a stupid letter." With that, she slid her thumb under the flap and pulled up, tearing the heavy paper as she went. The single page of stationary was lifted out and the shredded envelope fluttered to the ground. Ryan stood gaping as Sharpay's eyes scanned the letter and filled with tears. "Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her," she screamed, reading out the beginning of the letter before throwing it at Ryan. "'We regret to inform you that the time limit on our offer has lapsed and we are no longer able to accept any submissions for entrance auditions. I am sorry if our recruiter made assumptions about your interest this past summer. I hope you know that he appreciated your talent at the Oregon festival recital. All the best.' All the best?"

"Sharpay, breathe. It doesn't matter. She didn't want to go. That's why she didn't say anything. You have an offer to audition and so do I. What does it matter?" Ryan insisted, feeling his own trust in Gabriella fracturing. He could understand her not confiding in Sharpay, but he considered himself less volatile.

"It matters because we're sisters! She's supposed to tell me things. She should have told me!" Sharpay screamed.

"Why?" came a voice from the doorway. They hadn't heard her enter the house. "Why should I have told you anything at all? Why am I not allowed to keep some things to myself?" Gabriella asked, her voice tight with anger as she prolonged her gaze at the letter Ryan now held. Ryan felt guilt wash over him at the disappointment on her face. "I am allowed to make my own decisions. I am allowed to discard whatever school I want, especially when I never sought them out. And I don't have to tell you about it."

"So you weren't even going to consider Juilliard's offer? Whatever offer that was?" Sharpay looked disconcerted, as if she was unsure what that meant to her. Ryan wanted to sigh, knowing exactly what was going through Sharpay's mind.

"No," Gabriella replied stiffly, "I put their letter in my drawer and left it there. I suppose I should have called and told them I wasn't interested."

"But it's Juilliard!" Sharpay exclaimed, making Ryan wince. "Are they beneath you? Is that it? Miss Gifted Student can't break the mold and studying dance or the arts? That's it, isn't it? You think Juilliard is second rate to Harvard or MIT? Tell me, Gabriella, do you think Ryan and I are too stupid to go to any school you choose?"

"Wow, Sharpay," Gabriella said, raising one eyebrow. "Just wow. Is that really what you think? Are you that insecure that you need me to assure you that you are picking the right school?"

"Or, maybe," Sharpay shot back, "You were waiting to see where I or Ryan or Troy were going to school so you could run as far as you could in the opposite direction, just like this summer with Oregon. Because that's your answer to everything, lately, hide until it's over."

"Sharpay, I went to Oregon this summer so that Troy would fall in love with you," Gabriella snapped in exasperation. "I had this wild hope that if I wasn't around, he would fall in love with you. Clearly, I was wrong." She let her gaze linger on Sharpay and Ryan could see that his twin was unnerved by the insinuation that she should have done more to keep Troy. He didn't like the way that a simple suggestion from Gabriella would stamp Sharpay's confidence into the ground. Especially when Gabriella rarely gave her reason to feel that way. "And I have other schools to run away to that you haven't considered, so don't worry. I may still get my supposed wish."

"You mean Cal State?" Sharpay asked, her knowledge of the school throwing Gabriella off guard and giving her a moment to collect herself from the latest blow.

Ryan riffled through the pile on the table and pulled out the unopened envelope from California State. Silently, he handed it to Gabriella who glanced at it and paused. Ryan could tell she wanted to rip it open. Her fingers trembled with the same restraint he and Sharpay had experienced only moments before. He wanted to tell her to open and share in her excitement like they would have before. Sharpay beat him to it and for the first instant since she broke up with Troy and the whole truth came out, Ryan felt like his sister's anger was misplaced.

"Well, don't just stand there. Let's hear what Cal State wants," Sharpay said snidely. "Come on, don't be shy. Ryan and I just opened ours from Juilliard. Yes, see, we weren't the only ones they are interested in."

"Congratulations," Gabriella said flatly as she gracefully opened the letter and read. Ryan watched the mask slam down over her face. "I got in. Happy?"

"That's it? You can go to Cal State next year? No balloons? No flowers? No wooing?" Sharpay scoffed and Ryan saw Gabriella physically snap with fury.

"No, Pay. They want me to consider their honours programs. And they will pay for everything: tuition, residence, books, fees, costs. They are guaranteeing me entrance into any program I want." She hesitated for a moment and then when she spoke, Ryan closed his eyes in frustration. It was rare that Gabriella lost herself in an argument, but the last few days had not been kind. "And you know what just sweetens the deal, Pay? Troy got his letter last week. Full ride no matter if he plays basketball or not."

"Ella, back off. She gets it," Ryan urged. Gabriella glared and Ryan felt her full feelings about his apparent betrayal from the neutral position he should have taken.

"No. She opened my letter because it just galled her to think that I may have done better than her. She is so desperate right now to look like the better person that she doesn't think before she speaks. I didn't tell you about Juilliard, Sharpay, because I didn't give a fuck. I ignored it and I chose not to tell you because I knew they would send to you eventually and I didn't see the point in getting antsy over it. I didn't tell you about Stanford's full ride because the moment I do, it will be all Mom talks about. I didn't tell you about any of my acceptances because it is my choice." Gabriella heaved deeply, her cheeks red and her neck flushed.

"You're just pissed because I didn't buy your pity act in the hall at school today," Sharpay weakly countered. Ryan wondered what had happened in the hall. "I wouldn't accept your guilty offering of the crown. Well, when I win, and they see you standing there-."

"I won't be standing there, Pay. If that is all that is keeping you from breaking down right now, is the fantasy of me being physically labelled as second to you, then you are wrong. I won't go. I won't take my name off of the ballot like you asked, but when they call, I will hang up. And I will skip rehearsal. And I will skip the game. Do you see the picture? When you wear that crown, you will do so alone." Gabriella stepped forward and ripped her Juilliard letter and the Vogue subscription off the table.

"Ella, I'm-," Ryan started.

"Don't bother. Tell Mom not to save me supper. I'm not hungry." Gabriella began walking down the hall to the main staircase, lifting up her bag as she went.


	22. Chapter TwentyOne

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twenty-One**

* * *

Her first role had been in the Christmas play at church when she was seven years old. She was one of the angels who appeared to the shepherds in the fields to announce the birth of baby Jesus who wore a white robe that had been borrowed from the altar servers' surplus and a halo of gold tree garland wound around a headband. It had been splendid until her sandal broke and she tripped in front of the entire congregation. Behind the scenes once her part was over, she had cried until her mother reassured her that no one had noticed. And they probably hadn't, she had realized, because they had all been looking at Sharpay who had been given the role of Mary. Ryan had been one of the wisemen.

After that, her progression through the performing arts could be marked by yearly recitals or musicals or plays. She had been a butterfly in Sleeping Beauty, dressed in a purple tutu with airy, filmy wings that glittered as she swooped around the forest. Sharpay had been a bird. She had been one of the lost boys in Peter Pan in elementary school. Sharpay had been Wendy. In middle school she was the enchantress in Beauty and the Beast while Sharpay and Ryan played Belle and Gaston. Boxes in the basement were filled with carefully folded and prepared costumes from West Side Story, Swan Lake, A Christmas Carol, Hairspray, and the list could continue. Toe shoes and pointe shoes, tap shoes and jazz heels. Veils and headdresses and elaborate crowns. Gabriella could mark her movement through childhood by the sizes of her costume wardrobe as interests changed, were altered, and adapted to suit her and her siblings' changing personalities.

Ryan took to choreography and directing. He was at his best with a stage full of classmates watching him run through steps or make suggestions for facial expressions or changes to the script. He took roles that he wanted to try, looking to diversify his portfolio rather than excel at everything. He continued to take dance classes outside of school and offered them himself within school. His voice was often paired with Sharpay or Gabriella or Kelsi, but he rarely sought out solos.

Sharpay was in love with center stage and the glory of the spotlight: the glitz and the glitter and the red lipstick. On stage, she was like a fairy. Every plie, every twirl, every leap and spin and set of splits set her above the others on stage. Her eyes would light like fire and Gabriella would find herself smiling by just watching from behind the curtains of stage left. The sequined leotards and tulle skirts would flash and sparkle in her dressing room. Her ballroom heels would gleam. Her makeup would be carefully laid out. On stage, Sharpay was at home. She wasn't self conscious or insecure about what she brought to the table. Each time she got the lead role, her face would light up and she would look to share her smile with Gabriella.

Gabriella had faded to the background; to the wooden stage sets and lighting tracks and sound systems. She danced in town and with the understudies. She sang in the choir and when Sharpay wanted a duet partner. She hummed Ryan's songs under her breath while she did homework, but Gabriella had found her niche and it didn't include spotlights and standing ovations. She left that to her sister. The Juilliard rep in Oregon hadn't understood that.

He had found her at a studio in Portland where she had registered for an intense advanced level jazz and hip hop class. Her plan had to make herself as busy as possible to have excuses to not be home when people called or to sleep without dreams. They had held a final show just before she flew back to Albuquerque, and afterwards, he had approached in his suit and handed her a card. His expression had been smug and amused, as though he knew he was every performer's dream. He hadn't understood her aloof attitude or her inattention to the details he mentioned. Gabriella wasn't a performer, an idea he had scoffed at. To perform, she told him, meant to enjoy the spotlight. To dance was to do it wherever you wished without the threat of being harassed. She had thought that would end his interest. When the envelope from Juilliard arrived from her father in Oregon, she realized that she hadn't been convincing enough.

The stage had always been a prop to Gabriella. It displayed performers like dolls, their perfectly sculpted moves and words and lyrics. On stage, you could only appreciate the audience and their impression of you. Backstage, in the shadows where Gabriella would coordinate costume changes and music cues, she could appreciate everyone. She could appreciate her brother's creativity and her sister's vibrancy. Backstage, she could step out of the spotlight that felt so constant everywhere else at East High.

Recently, Gabriella had found that there was no backstage to her life. Everything was on stage. Every move she made, every word she said, and everything she didn't do at all was captured by the roving eyes of an audience. She grudgingly had to admit that the Juilliard rep had been right. She truly was a performer. Her problem was that she could no longer separate living from performing.

* * *

The auditorium was surprisingly bright with all of the house lights on. On stage, the curtains pulled back to expose the skeleton constructions of the future set design and props, a single wooden podium was set up. Off to the side, Martha Cox and Taylor McKessie were huddled over their papers in deep discussion, their brows pulled together as they looked for possible problems that needed to be worked out before that evening. Taylor continuously looked at her watch, out into the stadium seating, and then back to Martha and her concern over the time allotted for the national anthem.

At the back, standing with her clipboard in hand at the double wide doors, Ms Darbus and Mr Matsui talked in low whispers about the students banned from the Homecoming dance. The game was a public event and tickets could be bought by anyone, but the dance itself held in East's gymnasium the following evening would be tightly regulated by school policy. Special permission had been sought for non-East High students to attend, and the entire football coaching staff had been enlisted to stand at the door and recognize any players from the opposing team. Principal Matsui had no intention of his school's homecoming dance to turn into a riot based on overzealous school spiriters and poor sportsmanship. Win or lose, rival teams could be deadly.

In her seat, the second from the main aisle in the front row, Sharpay tapped a hand against the armrest and secretly thanked Maria for suggesting she get her manicure done the evening before. They could always touch it up, she told Sharpay, but it would be better than rushing through nails, hair and makeup to make it to the game on time when rehearsal had no mentioned time limit. Sharpay had been perfectly happy to have an excuse to spend more time out of the house in the evenings, and she revelled in the attention that her step-mother heaped on her to compensate for Gabriella's complete lack of involvement in anything related to school and Homecoming.

Since the argument over Juilliard a week ago, Gabriella had become mute. She didn't speak to Sharpay or Ryan, she would merely nod in recognition that she had heard them and whatever message they delivered on behalf of their parents. She spoke to Maria and Vance but her sentences were clipped and short. Void of emotion. Saying yes to tomato sauce sounded the same as her answer of no to whether she needed a hair appointment booked for Homecoming. She never answered the phone or put her hand up in class. Gabriella was a shadow and as the week had hurried towards Homecoming, Sharpay had noticed that the part of her that had felt sick happiness at her sister's pain was shrinking. Sharpay was worried.

Sighing in annoyance at her confused thoughts, Sharpay turned her head slightly and looked at the other girls present in the front rows with her. One was a Junior that Sharpay recognized from the girls' track team and another was the senior of the two cheerleading co-captains. Two girls at the far end were from Sharpay's English class and members of the Student Government. Amy Rice, another senior, was a participant in the drama club with Sharpay, although she usually preferred smaller roles with less dance movements. Sharpay suspected Amy had been chosen to sing the national anthem at the game. All of the girls present were part of the opening ceremonies for the football game that afternoon.

The football players had already run through their rehearsal for the formal proceedings the afternoon before instead of practicing. Sharpay had watched them from a window on the third floor where she'd paced outside the student government office waiting for Martha to tally the votes for Homecoming court. Taylor had smiled at her in amusement and encouragement as she worked out schedules and designed the pamphlets. As someone nominated for the court, she was not allowed to partake in the counting and so she had opted to wait with Sharpay outside. Sharpay had never felt so relieved as when Martha and the vice principal had exited the room and given her their congratulations. Then they had told her who else had been named to the Court with her.

"Alright, ladies, let's begin," Ms Darbus announced, clapping her hands for attention as she climbed the stairs to the stage and its podium. "We will be using a podium outside, so for the rehearsal it should lend itself as a cue. This would be better outside on the field, but then we would run the chance of ruining the surprise and where would the fun be then?" There were a few halfhearted chuckles and the teacher moved on. "Now all of you ladies have a role to play. We will cover the easy ones first and then move onto the announcements for the Homecoming crowns themselves. Amy? Where are you, Dear?"

"Um, Ms Darbus, we're still missing someone." Martha's words froze Sharpay's blood. Ms Darbus raised an eyebrow in questioning. Taylor looked flustered. "Gabriella isn't here yet. She's supposed to be second after the Queen."

"She was told of the voting outcome?" Ms Darbus asked, looking uncomfortable. It was rare for someone to miss such an opportunity and yet, Gabriella was known for her punctuality.

"Yes," Taylor replied, twisting a ring on her finger. "I told her myself; last night."

Sharpay had been home by the time Taylor had called Gabriella. Technically, Sharpay shouldn't have been told anything about the Court until the final names were recounted by the principal, but Taylor had known she wouldn't say anything to Gabriella. And Sharpay hadn't, but she did hover around the house all night listening for the phone to ring so she could be the one to take it to Gabriella and listen to the five words she said before throwing the cordless at the wall. Sharpay had slipped away, nursing pleasure, anxiety and disconcerting guilt back in her bedroom where she opened the closet and gazed at her dresses. One for the game; and one for the dance.

"Well, if she isn't here by now, and she hasn't called you to say differently, we are to assume that Miss Montez-Evans is not coming and therefore forfeits her place to the next person. That makes Miss Megan Sparks second to the Queen, and someone will have to take her place as third to the Queen. Do we know who that is? I believe it's you, Miss McKessie. Please leave Miss Cox to the planning and come join us."

"But, Ms Darbus, she's..." Taylor trailed off without a solid explanation to offer. She took her place beside Sharpay.

"She's not coming, Taylor," Sharpay said quietly. "She'd have been here by now."

"I know," she replied sadly, "But I thought maybe she would change her mind." She toyed with her phone as Ms Darbus once again resumed her list of directions, calling for Amy a second time.

"Right here." Amy stood up and made her way to the stage. Sharpay watched as Ms Darbus told her she would be standing next to the podium—not behind it, mind—for the national anthem. The microphone was detachable. She was allotted 4 minutes, and as soon as she bowed twice and smiled widely, she was told to follow the would-be-at-the-game red carpet to a seat saved for her near the goal line so as to look flawless. After the first down of the game, she could move to sit with her friends if she wished. "Alright, lovely job." Ms Darbus waved Amy off the stage and looked to her notes again.

She followed through her list of representatives. The cheerleaders were given directions on where to enter the field and what sections had been allotted to the visiting team. The student government reps were to make sure they handed Principal Matsui the crowns and flowers at the exact times, and Martha would be the one announcing the Court. Traditionally, the Homecoming Queen and her attendants would be accompanied by their dates who would then be named as Homecoming King or the-next-best-thing. The wording always changed, but this year, Taylor and Martha had taken one look at the final tally list and decided to change everything. No dates. No Kings. No Princes or Jokers or friend-who-agreed-to-come-with-me. The girls would walk across the field with Zeke Baylor (who technically held the title of Sports Rep on the Student Government but never went to meetings), who would lead them to the podium. The principal would crown them in order and lead up to the Queen, and then they would take their place in front of the crowd. Ms Darbus rushed through these explanations so fast that the revelation that she would not be the only person approaching her crown without a date left Sharpay reeling with relief. When Taylor saw, she squeezed her hand.

"We figured it would be less drama this way. Less pressure. I told Ella last night," Taylor mused quietly, "That's why I still thought she would come. It would be just you and her."

"Me and her are the problem, Tay," Sharpay's response was distant as she watched Ms Darbus direct the girls in how to present first the crown, then the sash, then the flowers to an imaginary winner. It wasn't imaginary though, she reminded herself. That would be her. She had won. "Troy and I? Troy and Ella? Both of those don't matter in the realm of sisters. But me and Ella? That wasn't supposed to break."

"She hasn't spoken to him," Taylor told her quietly, and Sharpay unconsciously tipped her head closer to hear. "Troy, I mean. Chad told me Ella hasn't spoken a word to Troy since the night you broke up with him. That has to mean something, Sharpay."

Ms Darbus called the Homecoming Queen to the stage and Sharpay stood without responding to Taylor. Straightening her denim skirt, she tossed her hair over her shoulders as she walked purposely to her place on stage. Looking out to the empty audience, Sharpay imagined the crowds of people who would see her crowned in a few short hours. She would stand erect and straight, head held high.

She wondered if Gabriella would come.

* * *

Gabriella watched people scurry about on the football field below her. From up in the bleachers, she could see how Ms Darbus and Amy Rice talking by the red carpet that had been rolled. A group of guys caught her eye and Gabriella shifted her gaze to the doors leading from the field to the school. They were carrying out a wooden podium and a set of risers to set up where Ms Darbus was waiting for them. There was a flurry of activity around the podium as the tech crew set up the sound system and balanced out the initial static. As Amy's voice started drifting over the speakers and up into the stands, Gabriella left her focus turn inwards to detangle her thoughts.

Taylor had called to tell her that she had been elected to Homecoming court the night before. Gabriella listened to her with disinterest before informing her she was withdrawing. Taylor had ended the conversation angrily, telling Gabriella she was a stranger no one recognized. What pushed Gabriella to tossing the phone at the wall was how no one seemed to get that she was sick of being the person they knew and sick of being the sister they knew and sick of doing right by her sister. And Gabriella was angered by the fact that only a handful of people understood that she was not angry with Sharpay over Troy. She never had been.

Sharpay would be at home right now, slipping on her dress and letting their mother clasp her necklace. She would be fixing earrings in her ears and she would make sure her favourite ring was on. Gabriella twisted her own ring while in thought, envisioning how she and her sister would have gotten ready together if it had been a year ago. Vance would drive Sharpay to the school and then return for Maria and Ryan to find their seats in the stands. Together, they would watch as Sharpay was crowned Homecoming Queen with a perfect smile and perfect posture with not a wrinkle in her dress. The crowd would wonder whether Gabriella had been voted or if she had withdrawn. Gabriella felt bad for Taylor, who would not feel the full of glow of being chosen outright by their class.

Then the football team would play West High. Gabriella could close her eyes and picture the whole thing. She would be at home. Before the argument about Juilliard, Gabriella would have shown up and sat where she was now. She would have watched with a sister's joy as her sister lived through a moment where she was genuinely happy. Now, Gabriella didn't want to see her. Sharpay had twisted Gabriella's attempts to not overpower the situation and make it appear like any other breakup into something ugly. Gabriella didn't know what she wanted from Sharpay, but she hadn't expected the level of resentment aimed at her over things that spilled beyond Troy. She hadn't expected her sister to be able to hurt her this much.

She had noticed the presence beside her several moments earlier. He had arrived while she was deep in thought and had no energy to deal with him and the raging conflict in her head. He had stayed, taking a seat beside her and watching the people on the ground. When she came out of her thoughts, still confused but tired of going in circles, Gabriella slipped her hand into his. She didn't say a word, but he ran his thumb over the hands, crown and heart of her ring. Smudges appeared and disappeared with the steady motion. Gabriella felt the storm in her abate slightly.

"Are you ever going to talk to me?" Troy asked, watching her profile. "I didn't realize we were doing this—playing the silent game until this smoothed over. I'm not a fan."

Gabriella looked at him, swiping at her tears with a stubborn hand.

"I thought-, Ella, I thought we were in this together. I thought we knew where we were going. What happened?" He rubbed out a tear on her cheek.

"I got into Cal State," Gabriella whispered. "And Sharpay found out."

Troy didn't say anything else; he knew what that meant. Everything was out in the open. The depth of their betrayal, the path they had planned. It was no longer about Troy being in love with Gabriella. It was about how Troy and Gabriella knew that Sharpay was only temporary. It was about how Sharpay seemed so significant in their plans.

Maybe, Gabriella thought, that's where she had gotten lost. She had underestimated how much space Sharpay took up in her heart and her life. Without her, Gabriella was as lost as she was without Troy.


	23. Chapter TwentyTwo

**AN:** I usually dont do this in BY&M, but its necessary. First, I would like to answer every PM I've gotten lately and say yes, I will finishing and continuing all open pieces right now. Second, this is to the two lovely ladies to donated money to Japan months ago in return for getting chps of Between. Thirdly, you can all look forward to and feel free to harass me for unproper grammar's auction request for a continuation of The Definition of Us oneshot. Its coming, but slowly. Fourthly, and not leastly, another thank you to Kelly/ runninequalslife for editing this beast every chapter, and for dealing with my slowly moving muse. ~Van

* * *

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

* * *

Her job had saved them. In the early days it offered them an income, and then later, a lifestyle and a family. She had been happy as a stay-at-home mom, moving from base to base for the first five years of her marriage before she found herself in Portland, Oregon. When they moved into the house on Oak Street, Gabriella was still an infant in her carseat, and Maria Montez told her husband she would not move again. He let it go, but the threat festered and spread, and her marriage began to crumble.

Sometimes, Maria wondered if it would be different had she held her tongue until the next posting came though, but she never regretted telling him. It had been a warning. She was no longer just a newlywed bride, but a mother with a baby. Moving to new places was not a lifestyle she wished. Her husband had options, he could be discharged and retire, but he didn't. She found herself divorced by the time Gabriella was four years old after nearly three years of fighting and yelling and unrepentant decisions. Divorced and unemployed, she needed something to cling to.

Maria put her Business Management and Project Planning education to use and applied to a new green energy software company being run out of Albuquerque, New Mexico. She worked her way through the training weeks and the lower departments until her boss suggested she would benefit from a course being offered by the owner on planning new project ideas. She had rent to pay, a babysitter she owed wages to and a lawyer on retainer to deal with her husband who neglected to arrange for child support from his new four month posting in Germany—Maria took the chance to climb the ladder and took Vance Evans' course.

They had chatted at the meet and greet, shared dinner one afternoon that ended early, and while Maria wouldn't say she fell in love with him then, she did fall in love with the idea of being respected for having a career. Six months later, her boss recommended her for a job transfer to Albuquerque if she wished. She applied and accepted Vance's proposal. When he offered to help her secure a house and a moving company, Maria knew she wasn't going to a place of strangers.

Gabriella had been confused when she suddenly gained friends and then siblings and a new dad in the span of a couple of years. To her, Maria guessed, it felt shorter than that. Everything was constantly at a whirlwind speed. Maria wondered if that was why Gabriella was always so attached to people; if at some unconscious level, perhaps Gabriella was afraid of things slipping away. The years had progressed and Maria found herself in the present day, her daughter and her step daughter fighting to regain solid ground in their relationship; fighting to retain what they were losing.

Maria felt for Sharpay. Out of the two of them, Sharpay's emotions and actions for the last week were the ones that made sense. Maria could follow Sharpay's thoughts. She could feel her pain. She knew her pain. Gabriella was different. Maria felt cut off, cut out. As though her daughter had decided she wasn't worth her mother's love. She had created an isolation chamber out of her room where no one got in and nothing came out. She had built concrete walls that rejected everything back towards Sharpay so that she could suffer as she felt she deserved. Gabriella couldn't get out of her own dungeon of guilt and Maria didn't know how to save her.

* * *

Gabriella watched from the hallway as flashes went off and directions were given and giggles erupted. Inside the formal living room with its white rugs and furniture and cushions, her mother and Vance cooed over Sharpay and Ryan as picture after picture was taken. Sharpay had her back to Gabriella, her shoulders relaxed and her smile easy. Ryan seemed slightly uncomfortable as he tugged his tie and adjusted his shirt cuffs. For a moment, Vance caught her eye but agreed to the unwritten rule to ignore her as long as she acted invisible. Sometimes, Gabriella thought her step father was the only one who understood that she just didn't want to cause more pain to anyone.

Her sister was gorgeous. Sharpay's turquoise gown flowed and rippled over creamy skin. The one shoulder strap was unique enough to speak of riches and taste, and yet conservative and classic. Having grown up treating the world like a runway, each movement was like water and every sparkle and rhinestone complimented it. Gabriella couldn't help but smile.

East High had won the football game the night before. It bode well for a jubilant crowd at the formal dance in a few hours. Gabriella had watched from the rooftop garden she and Troy had found during their freshmen year at East. Although she couldn't make out the figures on the field or hear the details of the individual plays, she could hear the crowd cheer as the Homecoming court was announced and crowned. She could hear the roar of the stands when East scored a touchdown. And Troy sat on the bench behind her and followed the score on twitter care of bballer23.

Gabriella had tried to stay in her room all evening as the house rang out with demands and cries for help from Ryan who couldn't find a cufflink and Sharpay who couldn't clasp a necklace or zip up her dress. Curled up on her bed, the door shut, she had fought the urge to go watch Sharpay play dress up. It wasn't until the noise had stopped that Gabriella had decided to sneak downstairs to catch a glimpse of her siblings.

She had been so intent on her thoughts, that Gabriella hadn't noticed that the photo shoot had ended and Sharpay had spun around to find her clutch. Their eyes met and both froze. Sharpay looked surprised, her eyes wide and her mouth open. Gabriella looked down, her bangs swinging across her forehead to cover her face. Twisting the ring on her finger, Gabriella sucked in a breath and swept a hand across her face as she looked up.

"You look great," she said quietly with an uncertain smile. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you." Sharpay's voice was crisp, cold. But Gabriella heard the undertones and knew Sharpay believed her words.

"Have fun tonight." Before anyone could respond, the doorbell rang and Gabriella fled back to her bedroom as Vance and Maria welcomed their children's friends into the foyer.

* * *

She had homework to do, and that's what Gabriella tried to focus on as the voices drifted in from the lawn through open balcony doors. She had thought to close the doors, but couldn't find it in herself to do it. She needed to hear the voices, the laughter, and feel connected. When the cars had finally driven off towards East High and the Homecoming formal, Gabriella's eyes still remained fixated on the same page of her Jane Austen novel.

A knock sounded on the door and without waiting for an answer, her mother walked into the room. Gabriella sat up on the bed in surprise, her eyes narrowing at the items in her mother's arms. Papers rustled in the breeze from the balcony and Gabriella's gaze caught the deepening color of the sky before looking at her mother who had taken a seat on the edge of the bed. Maria spoke first.

"Last week, Sharpay and I were looking for earrings." Maria swallowed and smoothed the wrinkles from the garment in her hands. "She pointed out this dress at Runway and said, 'that's the dress Ella would have worn if she had won the crown. I can see it on her now.' I thought the same thing; I agreed with her, Ella."

"So you just bought me a dress to wear to my next Homecoming?" Gabriella asked bitterly, the sarcasm laced through her steadily closing throat. "It doesn't work like that, Mom."

"No, I bought you a dress to wear tonight." Shaking her head, Maria continued. "Don't look at me like that. I know why you turned down the court, Gabi, I do. I respect what you're trying to do by giving Sharpay space to herself, and to shine and sparkle as an individual. You're giving her back her independence by not creating drama just by being in the same room with her." Maria reached out and twisted one of Gabriella's curls around her finger. "But, Mija, you don't have to turn yourself into a shadow to do that."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way." Tears burned in Gabriella's eyes and the colors before her blurred. "It was supposed to be perfect. Even from the moment I realized that Troy had become entangled by Sharpay because I had pushed him away, there was this image I had of us all. He was supposed to fall in love with her, Mom." Maria's eyes widened at Gabriella's confession, and Gabriella realized her mother was only beginning to understand where she had stood between Sharpay and Troy. A soft smile twisted her lips as Gabriella spoke of the daydreams that haunted her like nightmares.

"He was supposed to love her and tell me that it was a mistake. We were so close he got confused. Then I would have ignored all the questions I had about us and the possibilities and told myself I was right. He was confused. It never meant anything." Another smile and Gabriella could picture it in her mind. "We'd still be best friends and Sharpay and he would be happy and we would all be at Homecoming right now where people don't whisper behind our backs or ask questions or where Sharpay doesn't look like an ice queen when she's trying not to look vulnerable." Gabriella finally had to take a breath and by then, the tears had broken from her dam and flowed down her cheeks. "Why couldn't he just love her? Why couldn't I continue to lie to him and tell him I didn't love him?"

"Because to live without love is to not know what you're missing. You spend your whole life guessing what could have been instead of just living and learning. You can't live without love, Gabriella." Maria rubbed the back of her daughter's hand.

"But I want Sharpay's love and Troy's. I can't live with just Troy in my life. I thought it could be enough but I was wrong. Without Pay, a part of me is gone." Gabriella swiped at a tear.

"Then tell her that. Go tonight and show her that you support her. That you want her to be happy and that you can be happy. She's worried about you Gabriella. She may be furious at the situation, but she's worried." Maria sighed.

"About what? I mean I know I haven't been myself but I've been doing what I thought she wanted. Staying away." Gabriella scrunched up her forehead remembering the few conversations she had had with her sister since everything had come undone.

"She thought you would be with Troy by now. She's been waiting for it to happen, and it doesn't. She doesn't understand why her worst nightmares about this entire situation are not becoming real." There was a pause and Gabriella knew what her mother would say next. It was what everyone said. Even Troy. "I thought you would be together by now too. If this entire thing is because you love each other."

"I love Troy, I do, but that wasn't why I hated him being with Sharpay." Gabriella twisted the ring on her finger again. Something she had taken to doing when she tried to sort out her tangled thoughts. "Sharpay had wanted Troy for so long. Maybe she loved him, I don't know. But she wanted him. And then she had him, and everything changed. She looked at local schools or Californian schools. Any place that she could go to college and be with him or Ryan or me. Suddenly she wasn't this determined, independent force. She was just another girl terrified of being alone. I hated that. So did Troy. It was also what kept him from ending it." She saw her mother nod in understanding, finally able to piece together the various points of view that had contributed to the mess.

"You thought she was fragile." The words sounded so dirty. Accusing. "You were wrong though. Your sister is far from fragile."

"I know. Or I do now." Gabriella gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "Isn't it obvious? I'm the one falling apart."

"Out of guilt, Gabi. Not out of weakness. Which is why you need to go tonight. Go and show Sharpay that you can still stand to be in her presence. That you can be happy for her. That you are trying. You think she changed because of Troy? So have you." Maria's words were clipped and practiced as she stood up and picked up the dress she had brought with her.

"He's going to be there. What if she sees us together?" Gabriella's heart was pounding in her chest.

"Then she sees you and has her own battles to deal with. Troy is your best friend, Gabi, you may not be ready to deal with him as a boyfriend or something more, but he's your best friend. He knows what to do." At Gabriella's tiny nod of agreement, Maria sprang in to action. "Good. Now go shower and do something with your hair."

Just less than two hours later, Gabriella found herself standing at the foot of the front steps of East High. Her curls had been gathered into a low side bun with a glittery gold headband dotted with green gems. Her earrings were simple and her necklace had only one loop of tiny beads that matched her bracelet. It flashed in the setting sun as she gathered the hem of her dress into her hand and began climbing the stone steps. The dress that Sharpay had pointed out to Maria all those days ago was a deep yellow that looked almost gold. It was simple and plain except for the starburst pattern etched out in clear rhinestones that spread over one hip and that side of her ribcage. Somehow Maria had found a pair of delicate, flimsy gold sandals that matched perfectly. Gabriella loved the dress, but she was acutely aware that it would be difficult to hide in it.

He had been hidden in the shadows, seated on the bench that created a low railing around the landing in front of the doors. She hadn't seen him until his voice made her turn. He hadn't been waiting for her, but he had needed air. His tie was loosened and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. His hair was mussed. Chad had convinced him to come, make an appearance, show support for the football guys who usually took a backseat to basketball once the fall semester ended and the school fans moved to the inside court. He was captain, he had an obligation, blah blah blah. They just wanted him to socialize. So here he was. And so was she.

"You weren't coming." He sounded tired, like he had the day before in the bleachers on the football field. "I would have tried to stay more presentable if I had known you'd changed your mind."

"Mom made me. Bought the dress and everything. Convinced me coming was the right thing to do and that it showed Sharpay that I could be happy that she was happy." Gabriella fingered the delicate material and turned her head to watch a couple of Junior girls hurry up the steps and into the school. She looked back at Troy. "I thought maybe she was right. Since I've been so wrong. About everything."

"She's right. You have the right to be happy, to have fun. This is your senior year too. Your friends, your school. You don't have to sacrifice them for Sharpay. You both get to have them." Troy had reached her and ran his thumb over her cheekbone and down her jaw. "Come on inside."

"Maybe we should-," Gabriella looked panic, the blood ringing in her ears.

"Ella, we've done nothing wrong. You are doing nothing wrong. I came outside and found you. Your mom convinced you to come. I came back inside with you. No matter what it looks like, and I get you're not ready for that, we do not have to justify what people think." Troy held out his hand.

Gabriella took it without a word and let him hold open the door as she went through. She smiled at how the inside of the high school had been transformed by the decorating committee. Red and white streamers and flowers and balloons were grouped together on walls and tables and display cases. Posters that had been used at the game were now taped to the walls in victory. Music pounded and vibrated from the open door to the gymnasium.

"This shouldn't look sneaky," Gabriella told Troy suddenly, stopping to look up at him. "I don't want her to think I tried to hide from her all night. Once we're inside, see if you can find her or Ryan. I want her to know I came."

"Of course. What color is she wearing?" he asked, as he realized that the noise had been from cheers and clapping of students and not the sound system.

The gym was packed with students, but no one was dancing. People were pressed close to the stage so that entry to the room was fairly easy. Those who noticed Gabriella and Troy's appearance froze, eyes wide and faces shocked. Those with their backs to the couple did not notice, but those on the stage had a clear view of Gabriella's entrance. Sharpay locked gazes with Gabriella just as the dark haired sister registered what she was interrupting.

"Um, blue," she told Troy weakly, but it was too late. She had caught the anger in Sharpay's gaze as the rest of the homecoming court was announced. "Oh, God," she whispered, Troy wasn't sure to who, "I am so sorry."

She turned to flee, Troy calling her name loud enough that everyone within a 30 foot radius could hear. Eyes looked to the golden figure heading for the door, their harmless chatter turning to hushed whispers. Gabriella tried to ignore them but the words hit her like barbs and Sharpay's stare burned into the bare skin between her shoulder blades. Her cheeks felt flushed and the blood pounded in her ears as Gabriella tried to find a clean way through the crowd to the door, to the hallway, to outside.

The chest she crashed into was solid, rock hard. Chad's hand steadied her as she tried to step around him.

By then, Sharpay had caught up to her.

* * *

The tiara was heavier than Sharpay had expected when the principal set it on her head. She lifted a hand to steady it slightly, her smile beaming as camera flashes went off in her face. The light blinded her and the applause deafened her, and yet she knew. She sensed it, and when the black dots swimming in her vision disappeared, Sharpay found herself staring into her sister's face. She couldn't hear a sound and it took a moment to realize that it wasn't because the volume was too loud to process, but quite the opposite. The gymnasium had gone silent.

Gabriella ran. Sharpay wasn't sure if she had anticipated it or not, but the action did not surprise her. For a split second, Sharpay contemplated letting her go, and then shoved the thought away. Holding the hem of her dress in one hand, Sharpay descended the five steps from the stage and entered the throngs of people. People moved out of her way as she walked deliberately towards the back of the gym where Troy was calling Gabriella's name.

Inside, Sharpay's heart beat frantically and her stomach coiled into knots. His voice rang of concern and passion and desperation. It slammed into Sharpay as she approached the commotion in front of her and with each step, her anger and frustration and hurt poured through her. It was Troy who stepped aside at Sharpay's approach, his hand briefly touching her shoulder and his mouth looking like it was about to give an explanation. Instead he said nothing and Sharpay faced her sister.

Chad was at her back and Troy off to the side. Their group of friends stood together but only Taylor looked angry. Gabriella looked directly at Sharpay. She hadn't expected that, not after she ran, but Sharpay couldn't let the hurt in her sister's eyes deter her from relieving the building tension. Sharpay saw the dress and the shoes and the earrings that were their mother's and another dart pierced her heart. Maria had helped. Maria knew. Vance probably did too. Sharpay faltered for a moment.

"I am so sorry," Gabriella whispered. "I didn't realize." The dam broke and Sharpay heard the rushed and hurried explanation behind everything. Maria had convinced her. Maria had the dress. Vance had driven her. Troy happened to be outside. Troy didn't know she was coming. There was more but Sharpay didn't care. She waited until Gabriella had finished before speaking.

"Fuck. You." The words were ice sharp and diamond hard. She watched as Gabriella faltered and Chad tensed. She swore she saw tears in Troy's eyes but she wasn't looking at him. "You can go to hell."

"Pay-," Gabriella flinched. "You don't mean it."

"But I do," Sharpay hissed. Ryan's fingers encircled her wrist but Sharpay shook him off. "I mean them all. I won this crown fair and square. You didn't withdraw; you were a runner-up even before you refused to show up and participate. I deserved to stand up there like any other homecoming queen and bask in what it meant to be young and popular and beautiful and envied." Sharpay took a breath. "And then you showed up. You showed up, Gabriella, in your earth shattering dress and perfect beauty and reminded everyone else of all the shit going on right now. You reminded me that there are bigger issues than me winning a crown; like that that you weren't there to have fun with me and that I didn't have a boyfriend who would whisper how beautiful I was afterwards when we danced. I don't have any of that and you had to remind me of it during the five minutes I was almost able to forget it."

"It's always about you!" Sharpay wasn't expecting Gabriella's outburst and it caught her by surprise.

"Excuse me?" she countered.

"You heard me," Gabriella hissed. "It's always about you. Every decision, every action, every thought circles around you and I am so fucking tired of it. It's what started this mess in the first place. You."

Gabriella was now standing directly in front of Sharpay, the two sister squared off in a verbal show down that had attracted the attention of everyone. The throngs of students kept the teachers back and Sharpay and Gabriella's friends kept the students back. Having unstoppered the dam, Gabriella let herself pound Sharpay with her anger.

"From the moment Troy slept with you, the two of us have put your feelings first. He didn't want to hurt you and neither did I so we kept up the charade, pushing and pushing until we broke." It was easy to see how far Gabriella had broken as everything rushed out. "Every day I would wake up and hope that he had fallen in love with you and every day he would tell me that he would try harder to find a way to break up with you the next day. Every day for six months, Sharpay, we sacrificed ourselves and what we felt because we thought it would be better for you if we did. Six fucking months!"

"And whose fault is that?" Sharpay screamed back. "I am not a china doll. I do not break at the first sign of pain. No, this mess is your fault because you two decided to play God. You decided it would be up to you what would make me happy and how to ensure it happened. You decided what was better for me. That is not, and was never, your job, Gabriella."

"You're right, Sharpay, it's not my job. Maybe I should have just told you the truth after that night Troy banged you because he was pissed at me over my date. Maybe I should have just bluntly informed you that after each night you and Troy fucked, he would call me and beg me to help him end things. If I had done that, perhaps you wouldn't have lived in a dream world for six months while everything fell apart." Gabriella crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head. Out of the two of them, Sharpay was known for her attitude. However, it was impossible to grow up with her as an equal without learning how to dish it back to her. Gabriella was her equal.

"I wasn't living in a dreamworld!" Sharpay shot back. She was tired of the image of dainty, airy-fairy princess, and sick of how everyone now used it as an excuse for not telling her. "I knew something was wrong from the moment you got back from Oregon. Troy was all distracted and you barely spoke. Chad glared at me all the time and Taylor refused to speak to Troy. You all thought I didn't notice?"

"You noticed because you were jealous." Gabriella felt her skin tingle with satisfaction as Sharpay's face flushed fuchsia. "Don't deny it. If any other guy had behaved like Troy, you would have dropped them in a flash. You kept him around because you needed to have something I didn't. You knew that dating him had fractured us and still you kept going. You were so jealous of me and Troy _as friends_, that you couldn't even make yourself happy."

Tears appeared in Sharpay's eyes, fuelled by hurt and anger at Gabriella's words. Clutching her purse tightly in her sweaty palms, Sharpay gathered up the hem of her dress and spun off, weaving through the crowd until she found the emergency exit that led to the back parking lot where she had parked. Pushing open the door, she ignored the clanging alarm that erupted. No longer being watched, she shed the rigid posture and simply ran towards her car in the lot. Shoving the key in the ignition, she tore out of the school driveway and sped towards home.

* * *

Gabriella found her arm being grabbed by Ryan the moment the alarm sounded. She tried to ignore the look in his eyes that screamed disappointment, anger, frustration and a culmination of so many other things that only he could have from being between her and Sharpay. Only he knew how deeply they were cutting each. Troy may have an idea, but only Ryan knew Sharpay to the fullest. Pulling Gabriella closer so that he could bend down to yell into her ear, he didn't notice the wince that flicked across her face.

"Are you coming with me or not?" he asked. She knew what he meant and while the angry, bitter part of her wanted to tell him no, Gabriella knew better.

"Yes." She turned to look for Troy and their eyes connected long enough for him to nod and motion for her to follow Ryan. He knew her well enough to know she'd chase Sharpay even after that last few minutes.

Gabriella followed Ryan through the throngs of people rushing for the exits until they reached the outside and the parking lot. She saw him dig his keys out of his pocket and hurry towards his car.

"Wait, where are we going? Isn't she out here?"

"No," Ryan sighed, annoyed, "She drove herself here. She's already left, probably for home. Are you coming or not?"

"I said I would, didn't I?" Gabriella snapped.

"Then get in the car, Ella."

A moment later, Ryan sped out of the parking lot following the same route Sharpay had taken a handful of minutes earlier.


	24. Chapter TwentyThree

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

* * *

The car had been a sweet sixteen birthday gift from Vince and Maria to Ryan. Sharpay had gotten one as well; a pink convertible with a monogrammed SE on the hood and rhinestone studded head rests and matching rearview mirror. But Ryan's car—a midnight blue 1973 Camaro—had drawn a squeal from Gabriella. It was pristine and rough and beautiful. In the ensuing excitement from both twins, it had been Ryan who remembered to ask Gabriella to join him for the first spin around the neighbourhood. The key had entered the ignition and the engine had roared to life as Gabriella fingered the interior leather and ran her hands over the polished dashboard.

She had always preferred Ryan's car to Sharpay's. And Ryan never minded letting her drive it during the months leading up to her own sweet sixteen. With her head against the back of the seat, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift, Gabriella would let the wind flow through her hair and dream about the places the car would take her. For some reason, even once she received her own sleek black Benz, Gabriella would dream about California from the drivers' seat of the Camaro.

After her own birthday, she would still borrow Ryan's keys. Her car would be in the shop or Sharpay had blocked her in. Her oil needed to be changed and Troy hadn't made it over yet. None were excuses and yet all were welcomed. It wasn't that she didn't like her car or didn't appreciate it; it was moreso that Gabriella felt confined by what the Benz represented. Wealth. Class. Superiority. The Camaro was different. It was character and special and unique and rare. It spoke of knowledge and interest in its design. Gabriella found herself fleeing one and drawn to the other.

* * *

The sun had set below the skyline of Albuquerque and the buildings were stark blue-black against a fire-orange backdrop. Stars were beginning to appear, dotting the sky above with no obvious pattern. They faded slightly as Ryan's Camero left the quiet neighbourhood around East High and entered the busier streets of the city's sprawling urban core. Gabriella's clutch glinted from the floor by her feet, its gold plated clasp flashing as the streetlights passed overhead. The wind whipped through her hair, but this time it wasn't with the reckless abandon of facing the open road.

"Ryan, slow down," Gabriella barked. "If you get a ticket, we will never hear the end of it."

"I am pretty sure we have bigger things to worry about than getting a ticket," Ryan shot back, jerking the wheel to take a sharp right through a yellow light.

"I am sick of worrying about Sharpay. I am sick of the whole situation," she told him, catching a fistful of hair with one hand and leaning her elbow on the ledge of the door. "I have spent weeks letting the guilt eat me up and for what? For her to hate me for not sharing everything with her? For wanting to have something for myself? For admitting that what I thought was right was not?" Gabriella turned to look at her brother. "No, Ry, a ticket seems like a more practical thing to worry about."

"She is your sister," Ryan reminded her through clenched teeth. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "She is allowed to be angry at you."

"But I can't be angry with her?" Gabriella snapped. "I am not denying what I did, but I have my own reasons to be mad at her and you seem to be forgetting that."

"You didn't need to say those things to her in front of everyone. Out of any of us, I would have expected you to have more control." Ryan met Gabriella's furious gaze before looking back to the road. They were nearing the bridge and traffic had thinned out. The speed limit increased and narrowed the gap between the limit and Ryan's lead foot.

"What I said was true and it needed to be said," Gabriella argued. "If she is going to take the position that she doesn't need protecting, then I am not going to hold back. I will give her the truth she so desperately thinks should have been easy to give the first time." She winced as the car hit a pothole and jolted. "And would you please slow the fuck down!"

"I am only 10 miles over the limit," Ryan answered, looking over at her and glaring.

"Whatever." Gabriella tugged at the seatbelt again. "We don't even know if she's heading home. She could be going anywhere. I wouldn't be heading home."

"Why?" Ryan had slowed slightly and was still glancing over to the passenger side. Gabriella shrugged.

"She knows Mom made me come, so she knows that Mom is probably waiting up until we all get home. If it were me, I'd be wondering whose side she will take if I storm into the house because of a yelling match over going. Or, I'd want some privacy which won't happen either." Gabriella watched the driveways speed by. "Our parents are going to be all over us."

Ryan was silent for a moment. Gabriella could see the dimple on his cheek that told her he was biting the inside of his lip as he thought. The wind had lost the dry, dusty taste of the warm afternoon and now held a refreshing scent as it trailed along her arms and face. A car appeared on the road ahead of them, its taillights like two red fireflies. Ryan's sudden synchronized words and actions caught Gabriella off guard.

"You're right," he said as his foot hit the brake and slammed it to the floor. Gabriella felt the seatbelt dig in as her shoulder hit the car door. "She'd want to be alone."

"Where are you going?" Gabriella cried, but Ryan had already begun the u-turn without completely decelerating.

The landscape to her right blurred as Ryan whipped the car around in the middle of the road. The fireflies disappeared. Tires hit the gravel on the side of the road, spraying rocks into the steep ditch Gabriella knew was there. For a moment, she thought Ryan had put them off the road but then he steered the car back onto smooth pavement, swerving to balance in the inbound lane into town. She saw the headlights before she saw the center line. It appeared ahead of them, coming out of the turn from the bridge, just as Ryan's overcorrection shoved them into the oncoming lane of traffic.

A horn blared, but Gabriella didn't know who it belonged to as she covered her ears with her hands and looked at Ryan.

She saw the truck hit the driver's side before she closed her eyes.

* * *

Someone had silenced the fire alarm at East High over an hour ago. The principal and the teachers had cleared the school of any lingering students and their dates, sending them to their cars or waiting parents who had been called. No one seemed to know who had pulled the alarm in the first place. Some had said Sharpay but others had said she was gone before it went off. Others whispered that it was just a prank, pulled at a convenient time when no one was looking.

Troy didn't care who had done it. He had waited with Chad and Taylor and Zeke until they were given permission to leave, and then he had sat in his truck in the empty parking lot. It was oddly quiet, somehow peaceful. The air floated in through the rolled down windows as Troy held his phone and waited for it to ring. She would call when it was over and she was safe in her bedroom. She always called. A siren pierced the air, its desolate cry fading quickly.

The shrilling sound matched the commotion in Troy's head. Before homecoming, he had been uncertain about what his future with Gabriella looked like. They were at a standstill, his dreams on hold while she sorted through hers. He would wait for her signal, take her lead, follow her path. He knew she would always be in his life, but until Gabriella appeared on the steps of East High in a golden gown, Troy had been uncertain of what role in her life he would play.

When she met his eyes on the front steps, all of Troy's thoughts and threads of possibility had arranged themselves in a line, a progression of time, tumbling and speeding towards forever. Suddenly he could see himself and Gabriella holding hands in the hallway at school, kissing on graduation day in caps and gowns, and running side by side on the sand in California with surf boards in their hands. Troy didn't know where he would be in five years, or in ten. He couldn't say what career he would choose or where he would live or who he would be with. Like Gabriella, he was unsure about how readily happiness would come to him again.

Troy absently lifted a hand to toy with the dangling tassel of beads hanging from his rearview mirror. Gabriella had hung them there for good luck the day he declared the vehicle fit for the road. Sharpay had predicted the engine would fall out before he left the driveway. Sharpay was the unseen, unknown, variable in his life with Gabriella. She was like the possible careers, and unknowable relocations. Troy couldn't see Sharpay. He could imagine her in a variety of scenes. She and Gabriella sharing quiet moments, she being named as Godparent to their child, she standing with Gabriella and Ryan at graduation. They would fade though, and be replaced by a complete absence of her in any part of Gabriella's life. It was a lot like a hologram that shimmered with changing angles. Sometimes she was there, sometimes she wasn't. While Gabriella's permanent existence gave him hope, Sharpay's flickering presence made Troy anxious. Troy sighed, deep in thought. Sharpay represented everything that could change, the fork in the road, and Troy knew that what had occurred in the gym between Gabriella and her sister would be deciding factor in choosing which direction they would all follow.

The phone in his hand vibrated, his thumb hastily finding the right buttons. He paused, breath stuck in his throat when he saw her number. He answered anyway, his blood pounding and his mouth dry. He had a million things to say to her but they all died on his tongue after the monosyllable greeting. She was frantic and it didn't fit. Suddenly her calling didn't fit.

"Troy, you need to come. They went to see her and they left me here because I can't face her—I wasn't ready. I'm still not, but—I can't just wait here alone. I don't know what to do and what if they come to talk to us and it's just me?" Sharpay's voice was fast and her words slid together, blending syllables and pronouns until Troy felt disorientated.

"What are you talking about?" The pounding in his veins moved to his temples. "Where are you?"

"Albuquerque General," she told him. Her voice caught at the end. "I called your dad and he said he would find you but I needed to call you. I need you. There's no one else to sit with me who understands. Please, Troy, I need you to come."

"Pay, I'm coming," Troy stuttered, his hand rubbing his temples. He pulled it away as headlights cut across the hood of the truck. "But I still don't understand." The name floating in the back of his mind finally found its way into the question. "Where's Gabriella? Where's Ryan?"

He knew before she answered. He had slid from the truck and slammed the door, his hand still resting against the handle as though the rusted antique would support him when her answer slammed into him. He knew from the look on his father's face and the fact that he wasn't alone but had his mother in the car too. He knew because she hadn't called yet and Sharpay had.

"They had to cut them out, Troy. By the bridge there was a truck, and they—," Sharpay's words faltered but it didn't matter.

Troy hung up.


	25. Chapter TwentyFour

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

* * *

He remembered the day she had fallen. They had been planning a water balloon attack on Chad since early that morning. They had devised a pulley system, heaving baskets of balloons filled with water from the grass to the balcony of his treehouse and stashing them inside. It was revenge for shoving both of them in the Evans' pool while fully clothed the day before. She had thought it up and planned its execution. She was seven; anyone could forgive her recklessness or failure of foresight.

She forgot about their mothers and their Sunday morning phonecalls to discuss barbeque plans. They didn't think to tell Lucille that it was an ambush and that any warning to Chad defeated the entire prank. So naturally Lucille told Mary Danforth about how cute the two nine year olds in the backyard were as they filled countless balloons and painstakingly arranged them around the treehouse, and then Mary told Chad he should go over and join them, which completely ruined any level of surprise. Instead, Chad was ready for them. He had snuck behind the hedge until he was directly in sight of the treehouse, and then he started throwing.

Troy had sounded the alarm and Gabriella had been the first one to hit their target dead on with a lime green balloon. Like many battles, time seemed to stand still and speed up at intervals so that to Troy, it always seemed like the assault and counter assault lasted for hours. Time stopped when Gabriella slipped. The wooden balcony around the treehouse was slick with water and remnants of balloons and her foam flipflops had little grip. Troy would always remember what it felt like when she hit the balcony and then tumbled off the edge.

* * *

Sharpay was the only person in the waiting room. The pastel green walls reminded her of toothpaste and the dark green trim clashed with the blue tiled floor. A single window looked out over the roof of a lower floor of the hospital, limiting her view of Albuquerque to the tree tops and a church steeple. There were no curtains. She was seated in one of five matching metal chairs with plastic upholstering, her feet flat on the floor, her butt on the edge of the seat, and her eyes glued on the empty door way that led to the hallway and the nurses station.

A clock on the wall read midnight, although Sharpay felt like the night had been dragging on for days now. She had already entertained the thought of standing on the table piled with magazines and ripping the apparatus off the wall, but she knew she would still continue to count the minutes. Instead she watched the desk outside the door, and waited for a nurse to come talk to her. Sharpay craved knowledge of what was happening in the rooms elsewhere in the hospital. She wanted her parents and she wanted her friends, and she wanted every person whom she thought could tell her it would all be okay and be believable. She wanted to be home.

If she had been home earlier, maybe she wouldn't be sitting in a waiting room reserved for the family of patients in the operating room undergoing emergency surgery. If she had been home, her parents would not have spent a half hour trying to find her to tell her what Ryan had done. Where he and Gabriella were. Sharpay could still feel the dread and the panic that had squeezed her heart when she had finally decided to answer her cell phone, not expecting tears on the other end. It had seeped from her heart to her stomach now, settling into a cold, hard rock in the pit of her gut.

Sharpay shivered, her father's jacket too big to offer any real comfort to her bare shoulders. She was still dressed in her beautiful gown, her heels exchanged for flipflops a nurse had produced from her own locker when she had seen Sharpay's glitzy, strappy heels. Sharpay had almost burst into tears with the gesture. Her hair had long since been ripped from the biting pins, her makeup washed off in a bathroom. Her body was restless and she contemplated walking across the hall to the vending machine just to have an excuse to move, but the fear of missing something gripped her again and she settled back against the uncomfortable chair.

Her eyes had only been closed for what seemed like minutes, but she felt pulled back to the present by the obvious sound of running feet. Voices at desk were rushed and shouted, but recognizable and Sharpay didn't have time to stand before Troy was in the room. He seemed to look everywhere before he found her. When he did, words deserted them both. Sharpay just held his gaze, terrified of what she knew and what she didn't.

"Where is sh—", he started before pausing to watch his words, aware of everything between them. Licking his lips, he dropped his voice to something Sharpay recognized as terrified. Is that how she sounded? "What happened?"

The corner of Sharpay's mouth twitched at the courteous correction. She let it sink in before looking beyond Troy to see his parents in the hallway talking to a nurse. Jack caught her watching and Sharpay looked back to Troy. She swallowed and pulled her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped around them to hold herself together. She shrugged and gave his question a simple answer.

"Ryan pulled a u-turn just after the bridge outside of town; you know the one?" She kept going at Troy's nod. "There was a truck coming the other way, Ryan was going too fast and they just...," she let her voice trail off. Troy turned white, his jaw clenching and his eyes searching Sharpay's face. She turned away, still talking as she looked out the window. "There are cops out everywhere because of Homecoming so they keep telling us how lucky they were, that someone was close by and got to the scene so fast. They had to wait for the fire department to come because the car was smashed so badly no one could get to them. It's been on the news. It doesn't even look like a car."

"Pay?" Troy said her name softly and waited for her to look at him. "Where are your parents?" He wanted to ask _where is Gabriella? Where is Ryan?_, but he didn't. Was he afraid of the possible answers, Sharpay wondered.

"Ryan's in surgery. We were told it would take awhile. He's bleeding from everywhere, or that's what it sounds like. They were talking about brain pressure and his spleen and his lung. He could die. That's what they told us." Sharpay hugged herself harder as Troy shifted his weight. It was unintentional, but he was impatient. "They said they would be able to find us upstairs but I couldn't go. I thought someone should be here, and after all those things I said to her, I can't go face her now. I needed time. I needed to think. But then," she sighed, "but then I needed you and I knew she will need you, so I called."

They had come to the point that Sharpay had been dreading. He would blame her when this was all over. Everyone would blame her, just as she blamed herself. She had known they would follow her when she stormed out and she knew Gabriella's dam had burst, her patience draining fast. Sharpay had known they were all headed for disaster when she stormed out of the gym, but she had expected it to be figuratively. Emotionally. Maybe verbally. Could you have a verbal disaster? Her thoughts swam and swelled inside her head as she struggled to tell Troy what he needed to know. He beat her to it, making her feel like a coward.

"Upstairs? Are your parents with Gabriella, Pay? Where is she?" Troy hadn't moved, Sharpay realized. Hardly a muscle since had learned of the details of the crash and began doing what she had done, creating and recreating nightmares and scenarios in his head.

"They gave her a room for the night," Sharpay told him softly. "She has to stay tonight but they figure she can go home tomorrow. Are you going up?"

Troy hesitated. A part of him—most of him—wanted to bolt from the room and climb the stairs to Gabriella's room. The other part of him, the part that remembered Sharpay beating up Chad because he pushed Ryan and the part that remembered that she had combed the internet for a pair of scarlet ballet slippers for Gabriella's sixteenth birthday, kept him from running. A fleeting moment of realization hit him in the stomach. He didn`t have time to think it through, but in a moment, Troy realized that he hadn`t stayed with Sharpay strictly because he didn`t want to hurt her, but also because he didn't want to be the one to hurt her. He pushed the moment away to deal with later and tried to make up his mind.

"I can stay with you," he said quietly, "If you want. She'd want me to stay."

"No," Sharpay was saying, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, "You should go." He nodded and turned towards the door. She reached out to grab his hand but the space between them was too great and he didn't notice. It was when he paused at the nurses desk that she made up her mind and hurried to follow him. He was at the elevator when she called out. "Troy, wait." She paused. "Can I come?"

* * *

There was a jackhammer in Gabriella's skull. It was the first coherent thought she had managed to follow all the way through without falling into darkness since the truck hit them on the bridge. A truck had hit them. Something pulled at Gabriella's rising consciousness begged for her attention. She felt the jackhammer speed up, the darkness receding to grey, just like dawn when it broke through the window. For a moment, the greyness rippled and the black threatened, before the white exploded like shards of glass.

She winced, but never opened her eyes. Something soft touched her hand, and then it was gone just as fast. Gabriella wondered what it was. It didn't hurt like all the other times. Other times. She tried to remember why she was asleep. Why nothing would obey her. Why everything tightened and surged when she tried to think. She was tired. That's why everything felt heavy, she decided. If she slept, it would be easier. She felt the touch again, feather-light as it swept across her cheek.

"Ella?" She heard her name whispered, and the greyness rippled. "Come on, El."

Gabriella wanted to tell her to go away. As the abyss in her mind wavered and brightened, Gabriella suddenly wanted the black back. The fingers in her hair made that impossible though, as their familiar touch urged her to wakefulness. The jackhammer had dulled to steady throbbing and her hearing returned. The rustle of fabric was muffled and the voices blended together except for Sharpay's.

"Wake up, El," she whispered. "I need you to wake up." Sharpay's hand slid into Gabriella's cold one.

"Your perfume is nauseating," Gabriella croaked, her voice cracking. Her eyes remained closed until Sharpay sucked in a breath and seemed to roll away from her in surprise. Gabriella felt the mattress shift and winced at the movement. "Where's—" She paused to drink from the cup of water her sister was holding for her, angling the straw so she didn't have to move.

"Mom and Daddy are talking to the doctor down the hall," Sharpay told her quietly. Gabriella realized that the room was dark, with only a dim lamp switched on. "Troy went to get them."

"Troy's here?" She pushed away the cup and struggled to find a way to push herself up. Sharpay stopped her. The thoughts that had been swimming beneath the surface of her mind surfaced and Gabriella shot an anxious look at Sharpay, realizing she only knew where three out of the four people in her family were. There was a flash of red and a grinding screech echoing behind opened eyes. "Ryan?"

Sharpay hesitated and Gabriella felt the jackhammer return, closing her eyes and jamming a hand against her temple. She hadn't lied about Sharpay's perfume and her stomach rolled as she tried to push away the memories of the bridge and the headlights blinding her, Ryan's yelling and then the sound of sirens. There had been people yelling at her and jostling her. Strong hands that left bruises as the rushed to pry the car apart.

"He turned around because we didn't think you'd be home. We thought you would go to Lava Springs or back to the auditorium at school." Gabriella heard voices in the hallway. "He was driving too fast. I told him he was driving too fast."

"We know, El." Sharpay had sat back down on the bed again. "El, I just want to say I'm—"

"No, Pay," Gabriella cut her off, her headache causing her to slur words. "Not now. I can't do that right now."

"But—" Sharpay's cheeks flushed red.

"We will, but later. Right now, I can't." She swallowed. "Where's Ryan?"

"Mija!" Maria swept into the room and sat on the edge of the bed that Sharpay had relinguished to her. "Oh, Baby, I was so worried." Her hand was in Gabriella's hair and along her jaw. "How do you feel?"

"Like crap," Gabriella croaked, trying to give her a smile. She was tired. Her muscles ached. Her temple throbbed. "Where's Ryan?"

"He's in ICU, Baby." Maria smiled at her daughter. "I'm so happy you're okay."

"But he's okay? He'll be okay?" There was a knock on the door and Vance entered the room, smiling at Gabriella. She opened her mouth to repeat her question but he silenced her with a peck on the forehead.

"We can see him, Maria. Do you want to come? Ella should rest." Vance exchanged a look with Maria before turning to his other daughter. "Honey, do you want to come or stay here with Gabriella?"

"I-"

"Pay, go," Gabriella said softly. "I will be fine by myself."

"Alright, Mija," Maria said as Sharpay nodded and followed her father out of the room. "If you need anything, send Troy."

Then she followed her husband and stepdaughter out of the room, filing past the boy who had remained in the shadows at the doorway. Gabriella let her eyes feast on him. He was still in his tux, his hair a disaster. The tie was missing. His face was pale. She struggled to sit up and in an instant he was by her side.

"I was terrified. Do you realize how scary the past couple of hours have been? Don't ever do that to me again." He gripped her hands in his.

"Troy, can you yell tomorrow? I'm tired and my head hurts." Gabriella snuggled her cheek into the hand that had snaked up to cup her face.

"Yeah," he told her. "It can wait."

"But Troy?" she told him, her eyes closing and her breath evening. "I love you. Just so you know. I don't think I've said it yet. During all this mess, I don't think I have every actually said it that way to you."

Troy watched her slip back to sleep, speechless and without a response.

* * *

She was fine. Intact. Whole. He had to keep convincing himself.

The scars would heal. There were a couple, the biggest one winding its way up her arm and around her elbow. The most noticeable was the one at her temple, surrounded by an angry bruise and an unpleasant bump. There was also the dislocated shoulder but the drugs seemed to have kept her unaware of that one while she had been awake. She would feel it in the morning. Gabriella was lucky. He had come to realize that as Vance and Maria explained to the Bolton's the pieces gathered so far from the emergency crews. Ryan had taken the brunt of the impact, but even the impact was slowed by the fact that the truck had been under the speed limit coming off the bridge. They hadn't ended up in the ravine. The car hadn't caught on fire.

She had been able to tell him she loved him.


	26. Chapter TwentyFive

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

* * *

It had been her parents' idea. A week at summer camp in Colorado was certainly not planned by the Montez-Evans siblings, and they certainly had not planned on being sent individually so as be literally abandoned amongst strangers. Sure, each camp had been selected based on each child's talents, and of course, the instructors of voice and dance and acting were from only the best performing backgrounds. Then there was the retrospective reflection which reminded them that they had in fact made friends eventually. Still, it had not been in their summer plans when the siblings had sat in Troy's tree house the summer after ninth grade and concocted ways to spend their freedom.

On her first day, angry and bitter that her parents had sent her to the wilderness of Colorado, Sharpay had grudgingly admitted that it was beautiful. The mountains sparkled in the lake's reflection and the cabins were clean and bright. Her cabin mates were a tableau of experienced performers and their cabin was in permanent disarray with ribbons and pointe shoes abandoned amongst tutus and leotards and unbuckled ballroom heels. The girls were lovely and the instructors were seasoned.

Sharpay was homesick.

Part of the plan had been to separate the siblings from one another for a small taste of independence. Their increasingly tight and selective circle of friends was becoming more obvious to their parents and the fact that Sharpay and Gabriella were inseparable even when home had begun to bother Maria. The separation would be good for them, she had told the siblings, but deep down she wanted more than that. She needed to know they could handle themselves without a pack mentality. She needed to see that they would follow their own stars in high school and after. She needed to know they would stand up when happily ever afters ended before forever.

Maybe she had a spidey sense, Sharpay had thought multiple times with a shiver.

She had clearly forseen the day when separation would be key to salvaging relationships.

Back then though, during her summer of longing and fear and shyness, Sharpay had drawn on inner strength to hide the frailty of her emotions. She poured everything into her dance and her voice, but deep down, she wanted her sister and her brother. She wanted her obligatory fan club and she wanted to know they weren't secretly plotting a twisted ankle. She filled her empty moments with rehearsal and practice and memorization. She learned yoga and pilates and perfected her arabesque and learned rudimentary crump from one of the other campers.

Then she went home and listened to Gabriella and Ryan rushing and falling over their words to tell her everything they had done at their own camps. Snippets and memories were hurled at each other across the dinner table but only Sharpay seemed to notice that they came from Ryan and Gabriella. They had had fun. They had made friends. They could recount stories of skinny dipping and pillow fights and midnight canoe rides. Ryan had picked up soccer and Gabriella suddenly ran every morning.

They hadn't minded being away from Sharpay.

She felt cheated, as though she had been holding out from the same experiences they had found while pouting.

That was until Gabriella had snuck into her room that first night back and they talked about cute boys and catty girls. Gabriella let loose about how she hadn't been able to stand her bunk mate. How she hated that the instructors were always commenting on her poor turnout and lack of early training. She had kept silent about who her step-father was while the other campers boasted about their high profile lives.

She had missed Sharpay. She had wanted to go home.

The next summer, they had gone together.

* * *

Her neck and shoulders ached as she peeled herself out of the plastic chair in the corner of the room. Sunlight streamed through the window at the end of the ICU ward but it had yet to banish the shadows surrounding the bed in front of her. Salt and dried tears caked her eyelashes; Sharpay longed for a shower. Leaving the chair, she crossed the floor and eased herself onto the bed nearest the door. Her thumb rubbed circles on the back of his hand as she watched his face register the touch as though it were an uncomfortable dream. It was better than nothing, so Sharpay continued.

Machines beeped around his head, their red and green lights flashing and alternating. They had removed most of the tubes sometime in the night. She had a vague recollection of doctors entering while she dosed in the corner, but it was such a drastic change from when she had seen him the night before that her nerves relaxed and her muscles untensed immediately. Her hand moved to smooth the hair on his forehead.

Gabriella had been scary. With her cold skin and pale cheeks, Sharpay had been terrified to touch her at first. She had been unscathed for the most part, though, and so the extra machinery required by Ryan had ground Sharpay's heart to a halt. Doctor jargon had accompanied her time in the ICU, but little of it made sense. All she had focused on was that he would recover and that he would wake up when he was ready.

"Be ready now," Sharpay whispered, unintentionally aloud. "I need you to do what Ella did, Ry. Wake up and show me your okay. I can't believe them 'til you prove it."

Unlike Gabriella, Ryan didn't flinch or grip her hand. He didn't reply with a retort or open his eyes.

He just continued to breathe with even counts and dream.

* * *

Gabriella wrinkled her nose at the breakfast tray in front of her. She had drunk the juice and attempted the yogurt but the rest of it was going to be sent back to the kitchen. There was no way she was going to touch the runny eggs or the limp and barely browned toast. Pushing the tray away with her good hand, she leaned back on the pillows and closed her eyes. Her few moments of quiet were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"Hey, I brought you breakfast." Sharpay offered Gabriella a nervous smile. "I thought the food here might be sub-par."

"More like uneatable," Gabriella grumbled as she watched her sister unwrap a bagel from the deli across the street and place a small container of cream cheese and a knife on the wheeled table beside the bed. "How do you screw up toast?"

Sharpay didn't answer but took a seat in the corner, picking up the newspaper that had been abandoned by her father earlier that morning. She flicked through the pages, disinterested because she had already read it downstairs, and set it back down. Gabriella watched through lower lashes as she pretended to focus more on smearing cream cheese on her bagel. Heavy questions lingered on the air but she felt there was no rush to break the unspoken truce. The quiet agreement to exist in the routine they naturally desired to follow.

"Do you want help?" Sharpay asked softly, jerking Gabriella back to the hospital room. "Here." She let Sharpay take the knife and expertly and breezily spread the cream cheese on the bagel and then cut the halves in two. "I should have asked them to do it at the deli. I forgot that you'd be gimped." She giggled as Gabriella glared.

"It's only temporary," Gabriella growled. She frowned at the ugly navy sling that strapped her arm to her body as she ate a piece of bagel. Sharpay hadn't moved from the edge of the bed. "You put on your own clothes, I see."

"Troy's mom brought them." Sharpay took a piece of bagel and nibbled. "Mom gave her the key and she swung by this morning to get you some things. She wasn't sure what would be comfortable for you so she brought a couple of outfits." She took another bite of the bagel.

"So they are my clothes," Gabriella deduced. Light wash jeans and a turquoise t-shirt seemed plain for Sharpay now that she knew. Sharpay nodded, her mouth full. "But there are clothes for me?"

"Sweats and a hoodie, sneakers. I think she even packed you a bra and undies. The nurse said to tell her when you're ready and she'll help you get dressed. Your doctor will be around sometime this morning to discharge you as long as you can still walk a straight line and remember the quadratic equation." Sharpay flipped her hair over her shoulder and Gabriella heard the tremble in her voice. The nervous raise in pitch.

"The nurse?" Gabriella asked. "Um, no. I am perfectly capable of getting dressed on my own."

"No, El, you are not," Sharpay replied blandly, picking up a magazine from Gabriella's nightstand and scrunching her nose at the cover.

"I have had a broken arm before," Gabriella shot back, "I can handle it again. It just takes time and creativity."

"You also have thirteen stitches in your good arm." Sharpay didn't look up from the magazine as she replied in an even and unemotional voice. "You're going to need help."

"I'll wait for Mom, then." Gabriella set her mouth in a straight line and gazed at Sharpay. She didn't look up.

"Mom is down with Ryan. She and Daddy are taking turns. That's why they sent me up here with you. Once you're dressed, you can go see him." Her voice never changed. Gabriella frowned at it. It wasn't robotic It was...

Patronizing.

Sharpay was patronizing her. She was answering her not in a calm, efficient manner, but in a way that a parent would deal with a child asking numerous questions. Yes, Honey. No, Honey. Sure, Honey. Go ahead, Honey. Gabriella felt her skin tingle and her cheeks flush. Then the next realization hit her. Sharpay wasn't stupid. She knew what she was doing and she was doing it on purpose.

"I don't need help." Gabriella's voice was rigid and she saw Sharpay tense. "If you could step outside, I will get dressed."

"You shouldn't be in here alone."

"Are you offering to stay?"

"Hell, no." Finally, a change in tone. Gabriella smirked.

"Then leave."

"I'm not leaving."

"Fine. Could you hand me that bag, please?"

"No. If you can get dressed by yourself, you can get your own bag." It was Sharpay's turn to smirk and Gabriella hesitated for a moment. Just a moment.

"Go to Hell, Pay."

"Oh, I'll be meeting you there, _El_." Sharpay had tossed the magazine onto a chair and was now perched with legs crossed and arms folded against the end of the bed. "It's where the liars and the cheats hang out for eternity."

"And apparently the bitches," Gabriella shot back. Their voices were rising but it was as if the nurses in the hallway had been warned.

"At least I'm not a charlatan!"

"Drama queen!"

"Succubus!"

"Succubus? What the fuck?" Gabriella sputtered. "I wasn't the one who stormed out of Homecoming like some reality tv star voted off the island."

"No, you just ran after me and got yourself busted up all over the road."

"I wasn't driving!"

"You shouldn't have been in the car!"

"What, I should have just stayed at school and danced with Troy while disappearing for minutes at a time to make out in the locker room?"

"Yes!" Sharpay screamed. "That's exactly what you should have done. That's what you should have been doing for the past week! Fuck, you're so self absorbed!"

"Excuse me?" Gabriella glanced around for something. An escape? An interruption? Someone had shut the door to the room she noticed with interest but Sharpay's seething reclaimed her attention.

"You and Troy need to just make out, or have sex, or do something remotely couple-like. That's what people who love each other do. They go on dates and feel each other up and make fucking googly eyes at one another. Why are you two not doing that? Why do you insist on being a fucking nun?" Sharpay sounded genuinely confused. Gabriella was confused. "Why are you not playing by the rules!"

"Rules?" Gabriella whispered.

"Yes, rules!" Sharpay screamed back. "After I dumped Troy, I came up with a plan. A reactionary plan. I envisioned all these ways I would have to see you two together. All the ways I would deal with it. Sometimes I would be sarcastic and sometimes I would be quietly elegant. It didn't happen. Weeks went by and nothing. You don't sit close in class, you're not study partners, Troy is flunking math without a tutor and Taylor says you're not speaking to him. Fuck, El, what are you doing?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" she shot back. Sharpay stepped back, surprised. "Okay? I don't know what I'm doing. Ever. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was just supposed to end things with you because it was wrong to let you love him. Troy and I were just a distant someday in the future when it wasn't such a horrifying thought. Then everything fell apart and you kept digging up secrets. You kept throwing deceptions and hate at me and I don't know what I'm doing, Sharpay. Happy? I am fucked up."

"You're not fucked up."

"Yes, I am." Gabriella wiped at the tears that had been running unnoticed down her face. "Things weren't supposed to get this bad. He was supposed to fall in love with you while I was away. We weren't supposed to fall in love with each other. I just wanted you to be happy."

"Gabriella, listen to me." Sharpay had tears in her eyes but seemed to be resolved to something. Gabriella took attention. "Stop being such an idiot."

"Pay—"

"No, listen. Out of all this mess, no matter what I felt, I think the worst of it was that I should have known. I should have seen it. I should have accepted it and moved on. Or pointed it out to you."

"Seen what?"

"You and Troy." It sounded so simple, finally. "Out of everything that should not have happened, you and Troy are the exception. This big mess is just proof that you two were supposed to happen."

"You're saying we were destined to fuck up?"

"No, you did that all on your own," Sharpay replied in condescension. "But the love part was inevitable."

"I'm still really sorry."

"And I'm still really pissed off." Pause. "I'm working on it."

"I'm pissed at Ryan."

"Me too. We can tell him together."

* * *

It was just after lunch when Troy knocked on the door and stuck his head in. He noted the green tote on the bed and the windowsill empty of flowers. There had been only two vases for Gabriella's overnight stay but now they were perched on a chair waiting to be taken down to the car with the rest of her things. Ryan was still in ICU, Sharpay and their parents taking turns visiting and sitting with him. Gabriella had been downstairs for only a few minutes when the doctor had sent her back to her room to pack up and await discharge. Although her intent had been to spend the afternoon with Ryan, her parents and the doctor had ended that thought. She was going home with the Boltons until that evening when Maria would come home and spend the night with her. Gabriella could see Ryan the next morning after a night in her own bed.

Gabriella was limping around, gathering up the magazines left by visitors and nurses. Troy let his eyes slid up her, taking in the sweat pants that hung off slender hips and the simple t-shirt that exposed her back when she bent over to organize her bag. Her hair looked clean although it was tossed up in a careless bun. Someone had brought her sneakers and then Troy remembered his mom stopping by the Evans' mansion that morning.

"Hey" he called, ending his quiet observation.

"Oh, hey," she responded, distracted. "Can you help me?"

Troy strode forward and took the magazines from her, shoving them into the tote filled with toiletries and masses of blue and gold fabric. He let his fingers rub the silkiness for a moment until he noticed Gabriella had paused to watch. Quickly he took his hand out and set the bag on the chair beside the flowers.

"It's just a dress," he told her softly.

"I know. It's just—" Gabriella sat on the edge of the bed, cradling her arm in the sling to her chest. "Pay picked it out. I never stopped to really think about that."

"She's your sister," Troy reminded her, sitting so that they were side by side. "She knows you like you know her."

"We talked this morning." Troy didn't say anything. "Just us. More yelling than anything, but we got it all out there."

"And?"

"And I think we will be okay. Maybe not awesome, maybe never perfect, but okay." Gabriella reached out and gripped Troy's warm fingers with her cold ones. He started in surprise. It was the most contact they had had in days. It had seemed like forever.

"What about us?" he asked quietly. "Where do we fit into it?"

"I think we'll be okay, too." She paused. "More than okay, even."

"What does that mean, El?" He pulled her hand into his lap.

"It means that I've realized that I can't wait for things to be perfect with Sharpay before making things perfect with you. I have to work on one and wait for the other. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. I can take it as it comes and appreciate it as it comes." Gabriella turned to look at Troy who was looking at their hands. "You never went away. Through everything, you never left even when I wanted you to; even when it would have made everything simpler."

"I love you. It's not something you choose and it's not something meant to be easier or uncomplicated." Troy met her eyes.

"That's what Sharpay said," Gabriella sighed.

"We were wrong about Pay," Troy admitted.

"Perhaps," she told him as she rested her head on his shoulder. "But I was wrong about us too."

"Yeah?" Her eyes were mesmerizing, Troy thought.

"Yeah."

Then, she kissed him.


	27. Chapter TwentySix

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

* * *

There had been a time, when they were younger, that he had withstood her wrath. It had been their freshmen year at East High. The play had been The Wizard of Oz. The prize was the lead of Dorothy. Between Gabriella and Sharpay, the auditions had been a friendly bit of rivalry. Deep down, he was sure the loser felt sparks of jealousy or disappointment, but she had been happy for her sister when the announcement had been made. She wanted to be happy. They had both done their best; she had just done better. It was hard to be angry at her for it.

He had claimed his goal with satisfaction. He would play the scarecrow, having taken the role from the untrained hands of a senior drama club member. It won him notoriety for his talent. It would earn him a chair on the drama club for sophomore year. At the time though, it earned him respect. Enough respect that when the Montez-Evans sister cast as Dorothy caught mono two weeks before opening night, Ms Darbus and the co-chairs of the drama club went to him to ask his opinion on who should fill the empty spot of the lead.

He told them to pick Tiara Gold. Gabriella—who had auditioned and not gotten the part of Dorothy—was already the stage manager. Tiara was the assigned understudy but there was the British accent and how authentic it would look against the rural corn fields of Kansas on opening night. There was also the fact that she blatantly disregarded any kind of suggestion, guidance or open demands to alter the tempo in a song. Half the cast hoped she broke a leg in a very unsupportive way. Ms Darbus and the co-chairs told him that they needed a second opinion. They wanted to know what he thought. Should they reassign the part? Could they re-run auditions again? Could he think of someone that may have more stage charisma than Tiara?

No. He told them no. He told them it was too late to throw a wrench into the already muddled waters. He told them Tiara would wreak havoc if she was passed over. He said that everything had already been rewritten to accommodate Sharpay's vocal range, and that Tiara was closer to mastering it than someone else. He told them there was no one else.

It would hit him later that Gabriella had been standing in the auditorium when he spoke to the co-chairs. She had heard every word. He would realize that he had done something wrong. That he had overlooked her. He had undervalued her. He had brushed her off. He had betrayed her.

Had he?

She never said anything about it. She acted like Tiara was the only option. The logical option. The expected option. Nothing changed between her and him. Yet, he felt that he had betrayed her. He waited to see the hurt in her eyes. He waited for her to yell, argue, throw it back in his face. It never came.

To Ryan though, it always lingered between them. An unspoken ripple.

* * *

It had only been hours, but it seemed like days. Not even a full twenty-four hours had passed since they had been standing together in the living room at home, posing for the camera in their homecoming attire. To Sharpay, the dance had happened so long ago that she couldn't even remember details like what bracelet she had decided on and if Ryan wore his hat in the gym. If someone asked her what color Taylor had worn, she would draw a blank. She didn't know who Zeke's date had been.

Sighing, Sharpay swiped at a stray chunk of bangs that refused to be tamed. Shifting in the vinyl covered chair, she watched the monitor attached to Ryan. The perfect beats marched across the screen, their peaks noted with a beep. It was the only thing medical that proved he was anything but alright. He looked worse than Gabriella, with a bruise shading the left side of his face and the ugly black stitches on his scalp standing out against the white-blond of his hair. Yet, where Gabriella wore the worse of her injuries on the outside, Ryan's were hidden inside.

She wondered what else was hidden inside him. Since they were little, Ryan's loyalty had been unwavering. Sharpay had never questioned it, never examined it, never doubted it. She didn't doubt it now, but she wondered. Beneath what her brother said and did, did he feel the same? Was his loyalty an action void of his own conviction? Did he support her because she deserved his support but not because he agreed with her?

In the end, it didn't matter. Everything was in the open, raw to the public eye. Gabriella and Troy. Gabriella and Sharpay. Sharpay and Troy. California. New York. Juilliard. Sharpay and Gabriella knew each other's secrets, each other dreams, each others lies. But, Ryan, Sharpay thought as she watched him, he had kept both their secrets. Like a vault.

"How much did it cost you to be neutral?" Sharpay whispered. "You and Ella—You're both more alike than you and I ever were and yet she said you chose to follow me. You dragged her with you. You drove like a speed demon and nearly died just to find me."

A double beep made her pause.

"Ry? What makes it so that its always you and me first? Do you think she knows?"

Another double beep.

"I do," Sharpay continued, her voice apologetic. "I get it now, what's between her and Troy. Troy is unfailingly hers. She knows it; that Troy is there for her and if necessary, her only. He's her backup when we fail her. When three ways cannot be split evenly into two, Troy makes it so she's not alone. Troy makes up for our DNA. I get that now. I should have gotten it before; I should have understood that when I started dating him. Maybe things would have been different if I had understood that from the beginning."

The beeping slowed again, the steady even peaks returning. The now familiar sound blended into the background as Sharpay settled in the chair with her thoughts. She had never really thought about the loyalty that hung between the siblings in the sense of its possible absence. Ryan's loyalty was a given. SO was Gabriella's, but Sharpay had never considered what that looked like from Gabriella's point of view. She had never thought about what Troy meant to Gabriella beyond the romantic and the friendship. He was an extra, not a necessity.

"She's never going to believe me when I forgive her," Sharpay murmured. "She'll never be completely open with us again, will she?"

Ryan didn't have an answer for her.

* * *

She had heard him when he started climbing. The trellis beneath the balcony, that in the spring would be covered in roses, had shifted and creaked in the cooler air as he planted his feet on the bottom rungs of his makeshift ladder. By the time he had swung one leg over the balcony's railing, she was waiting with her good shoulder leaning against the door jam. He looked startled for a moment before swinging his whole self onto the railing and facing her.

"I thought you may have been asleep," Troy stated, searching her face.

"So you decided to climb the balcony, sneak in through a possibly locked door, and check?" Gabriella asked. Her voice held no hint, but her eyes danced. "You could have called."

"You could have hung up." It was true. She could have. He hadn't been sure if she would, even after her confession in the hospital room that morning.

"I wouldn't have." A promise spoken. Between them, it was an unbreakable code. They would salvage and rebuild. She would trust him.

"Next time I'll call." She grinned and it was contagious.

"I'll make sure the door is unlocked."

He had to laugh then, they both did, at how easy that had just been. How quick the words had rolled off their tongues and how quick the laughter had come. It was refreshing and renewed. A phone rang from the room behind her and she looked back into the dimly lit shadows to locate the sound. They waited until it went silent.

"You're here alone?" Troy asked, his voice low in case they weren't.

"Sylvia's down the hall." She named the housekeeper and Troy nodded. "Mom will be home later."

"Do you want me to—," Troy paused as the phone rang again. Gabriella hesitated, torn between answering and interrupting their moment, and wondering who was so insistent. Troy decided for them. "You should answer that. I'll head home, let Mom know you're okay, and maybe I'll come back tonight."

"Alright." It was nearly a whisper. She waited until he was nearly over the balcony before slipping back inside her room for the phone.

Troy was on the ground and walking towards the street and his truck when he heard his name. Turning, he looked up to see Gabriella leaning over the railing, a phone to her ear.

"Troy!" She was talking to someone and yelling for him at the same time. "Troy! I need you to drive me to the hospital. Ryan's awake!"

* * *

It was late when the crowd of people in his room seemed to diminish to a manageable number. The doctors had wandered off, having run dry of lectures on the safety of driving, on the dangers of driving, on how lucky he was. The nurses had bled him dry and left to find other victims. His parents had left for home and a night of actual sleep. Sharpay and Gabriella had followed, although reluctantly.

Sharpay had been a fountain of cheerful, optimistic chatter. His mother had wept and smoothed his hair as if he were a child who had fallen and scraped a knee. His father had point blank told him he would help pay to repair the car. Gabriella watched.

There was a knock on the door that barely preceded its opening. Troy entered, looking awkward. He had stayed for a few moments when he brought Gabriella, but then disappeared. Ryan didn't blame him. He would have considered escaping too if it didn't hurt to breathe, or move. Now though, Ryan caught something in the way Troy kept searched the room like he was on a mission. It wasn't guilt. Ryan knew too much about what was going on, too much about Troy, to think it was guilt.

"If you're going to yell at me, just get it over with." Ryan leaned back against the pillows.

"I just came to find El's phone," Troy said softly, bending down under a chair to retrieve the device he sought. Waving it at Ryan, he gave a half smile that show little. "I told her I would come back and get it for her." He paused. "And I'm not going to yell at you."

"Why?" Ryan responded. "I almost killed the both of us. If you had driven her off the road, I would be yelling at you."

"Ryan, I just came to get her phone." Troy met his gaze from the doorway. "You should rest."

"I just wanted to make sure my sister was okay. I didn't mean for us to get hurt." His voice was quiet and Troy had to strain to hear him.

"The problem with that, Ryan, is that you forgot about your other sister. Pay and Gabriella will try to fix things. Gabriella and I will try to fix things. Pay and I are done; that will never be fixed." Troy had yet to say it out loud and it sounded like barred doors slamming. "But you and El? You don't have anything to fix. She realized that Pay was between you a long time ago."

"That's not fair," Ryan protested.

"It's understandable, Ryan. She's your twin, your other half. You've been through so much with her that no one blinks when you side with her. Gabriella wouldn't have it any other way. But she saw it when you were kids, and you're only seeing it now." Troy eased the door open. "So, I'm not going to yell at you, but you may want to really look at the tangles in the mess of the last year and decide where you fit."

Troy left, the door clicking into place behind him.

Ryan lay in bed, his mind a blur, his heart aching.


	28. Chapter TwentySeven

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

* * *

Their first Thanksgiving with Gabriella happened years after she joined the Evans family. Prior to the year Gabriella turned thirteen, and therefore could make her own decisions regarding which parent she wished to spend the holiday with, she had flown out to Oregon and had a combined Thanksgiving-Christmas vacation with her father. At first, when the divorce was still fresh, she had anticipated it from the moment school started. Later, as she inched towards adolescence, she had come to resent what she missed in Albuquerque while she was away.

An Evans family Thanksgiving was always a huge affair. Family would fly in from all over the country. Grandma Evans would move in for the week instead of staying at her condo in the city. The house would ring with laughter and childish giggles. The days leading up to Thanksgiving would be spent preparing the house. Grandma Evans had a tradition and a belief that to be thankful for what one has, they have to fully experience it. It meant that despite having a spotless mansion with a team of housekeepers and cooks, the Evans family cleaned it from top to bottom themselves. The children would help with setting the table and creating centerpieces.

The adults would cook. It was a tradition started by Maria the first year she was in Albuquerque. Alone without Gabriella, Vance had invited her to dinner. She had shown up early to cook a traditional Mexican dessert with Sharpay and Ryan as a surprise. Instead, after seeing the amount of work that the hired cooks had, she volunteered to help. The next year, Vance's sisters Violet and Vivienne joined her. Along with cleaning the house, cooking the meal was another tradition.

Ryan knew Gabriella hated that she missed out. When she was younger, she would come bursting through the doors at the airport, arms laden with gifts and bags from her father and step-mother, stories spilling out of her with excitement. Within minutes, she'd be silent, eyes down-cast, as Sharpay chattered away about the week she'd been gone. Ryan knew it was simply in Sharpay's nature to compete. Gabriella didn't see the need to. Having missed out on the ice cream fight or the theatre trip with Grandma or seeing a new baby cousin couldn't be beat.

The year she turned thirteen, her parents gave her the choice to stay in Albuquerque or go to Portland for Thanksgiving. She chose to stay. Things were arranged with school so that she left school early in December and flew to Portland for the week before Christmas Eve instead. For Thanksgiving, they were all together.

There were a lot of things to remember about that year. All the times someone had to introduce people to her. The way she laughed as Aunt Vi taught her to make apple pie. Yet, what Ryan remembered was dinner. When they finally sat down to eat, and each member of the family bowed their heads and gave one reason to be thankful, all eyes settled on Gabriella. Every person tended to say the same thing. It was a tradition unto itself. No one wanted to repeat what someone else said, and so each year, the same thing was uttered. Gabriella was new. She didn't have a place.

Gabriella chose love.

She was thankful to have love. Not the love of a specific person; just the abstract, less tangible access to love.

* * *

The Evans mansion was quieter than any Thanksgiving ever remembered. Grandma Evans was present, quietly and elegantly folding table linens with Maria in the dining room while the cook and Aunt Violet discussed how many side dishes there should be given the drastic cut in numbers. Everyone else had made alternate plans so as to avoid putting even more pressure on the family.

It had been three weeks since the accident. Gabriella's shoulder and cuts had mended. Her bruises had faded. Ryan been released from the hospital and had spent his last week of freedom catching up on schoolwork that he needed to know before returning to classes after the holiday. Sharpay's heart didn't feel quite as broken. In both big and small ways, everyone had stepped towards healing.

Gabriella found it unsettling. After months of guarding her words and her emotions, her traitorous thoughts still warred to convince her that it could all fall apart. That Sharpay's quiet gestures that indicated fragments of forgiveness were just a front. Where she once had felt completely comfortable and in control of situations, Gabriella suddenly found herself jerky and awkward. She kept witty retorts to Chad's jokes inside. She was slow to answer Sharpay's invitations to go shopping with the girls, the voice in her head reminding her that Sharpay felt obligated to invite her; guilty that Taylor and Kelsi were still stony-faced and quiet. She analyzed every nuance of what was said around her. Where she had belonged before, she now felt like an outsider. Tolerated, included, but not quite in sync with the others.

Which was why she was hiding in the den while everyone else worked to prepare for Thanksgiving. It had taken three years of Thanksgivings in Albuquerque for her to feel like an Evans at dinner. Now she felt more alone than before. She didn't have a tradition with Grandma Evans to make the stuffing or peel the apples for the pie. Usually her mother and her would bake the traditional Mexican bread but at Thanksgiving that treat was reserved for Sharpay. She didn't know enough about golf to join Vance and Ryan in the basement. So she hid in the den with her feet curled up on the couch watching The Grinch.

Sharpay startled her with a knock on the door. She waited for Gabriella's silent assent before entering the room and taking a seat at the far end of the couch. She sat stiffly on the edge, her feet flat on the ground, hand folded in her lap. Gabriella raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Sharpay watched the movie until a commercial appeared on the screen and Gabriella muted the television.

"Do you want to make apple pie with me?" she asked, looking at Gabriella's knees instead of her face.

"What? No," Gabriella replied. "That's your thing with mom. You bake the pie and the bread and Ryan gets almonds in his beans."

"Yeah, but you don't have a thing with Mom," Sharpay stated, shifting awkwardly. "You usually help Aunt Viv with the table but since she's not here this year and Grandma did it, I thought you'd want to help us."

"That's sweet, Pay, but I don't want to mess with tradition. You and mom should do it like always." She watched Sharpay. "Something about this year should be the same."

"Why?" Sharpay asked. "Why do we need things to stay the same? Haven't we learned by now that sometimes things change and should change and the world won't fall apart?"

"Pay, I don't think now is the time to—," Gabriella hesitated but Sharpay was ahead of her with the words pouring out. Not angry words or harsh tones, but simply spilling her guts.

"No, now is a good time." She sucked in a breath. "Juilliard is coming to East in January."

"What?" Gabriella gasped. She smiled at her sister, truly happy for her, but Sharpay wasn't smiling.

"They sent Ms. Darbus a letter last week telling her who they were interested in. Obviously we haven't had auditions for the musical yet but it won't really matter. They want to see how we work outside of the final production and if they like any of us, they will recommend we do the official auditions for the school in March." Sharpay sucked in a breath, finally letting a smile crack her features. "So they are coming to see me and Ry and Kelsi and anyone else who has applied."

"That's great, Pay. Really. I'm happy for you." Gabriella still wasn't sure what Julliard had to do with her earlier comments about change and the world but she assumed her sister would get to that eventually.

"I know, thank you." Sharpay paused and bit her lip. "They could come to see you too. If you wanted. Maybe their offer of a guaranteed audition place is off the table but you could get back on if you did the musical."

"No, Pay." Gabriella was shaking her head. "I don't want Juilliard. I never did."

"But your letter from before—," Sharpay started. "We never really got to talk about it. I was so mad that you had kept it a secret and then there was Troy and I felt like there was all of this stuff going on—. We never talked about it. We talked about lots of other stuff, but not Juilliard. Or—."

"California," Gabriella finished with a whisper.

"Yeah." Sharpay squared her shoulders and Gabriella could see the thoughts racing through her head. "But I want to know about Juilliard."

Gabriella looked at her sister. Sharpay, who had been trying so hard since the hospital to make anything arguments between them just between them. Sharpay who made sure that Gabriella was invited to join the gang for hangouts; who was polite and civilized to Troy. Gabriella finally looked at her and realized she was trying. Things would never be the same, but they could be different. They could still be good. So she told her about Oregon and the dance classes and the workshop and her solo. She told her about the representative who wouldn't take no for an answer and the letter that had come shortly after that.

"That's why I never told you," Gabriella finished. "You still had no idea where you wanted to go and Juilliard was taking its sweet time getting back to you. I just figured there was no point adding drama when it wasn't even a blip on my list of possibilities."

"And I jumped all over you about it." Although she sounded apologetic, Sharpay didn't actually apologize. Gabriella didn't expect her to. As an isolated incident, the situation would have been different. Her anger had been tied to her relationship with Troy and because of that, she wouldn't apologize to Gabriella.

"And I threw California in your face," Gabriella replied evenly.

It was her way of moving past Juilliard and onto the real topic, as well as a reminder that it is still a problem. Things are not as easy as this conversation would trick them into thinking. This easy chat and sharing of feelings is important, necessary and healing, but still a facade to issues boiling beneath the surface. Not everything has been defused.

"Mom told Grandma that you're going. Are you so sure? It's still early. You haven't looked anywhere else," Sharpay said. Her voice was quiet, uneasy.

"I don't need to look somewhere else, Pay," Gabriella answered. "I went with Dad and Phil during the summer. Dad was all excited because he got to be a part of helping me choose like Mom had been doing last year. We saw Stanford and Berkeley and USC before we went to Cal State." Gabriella's gaze was somewhere off in the distance, seeing something Sharpay could only picture from college brochures and the internet. "I fell in love with the school and the people and the town. They have an amazing science program with possibilities for grant work or internships. They are offering me a scholarship. The housing options are amazing and the beach is only a short drive away. I can take second year classes if I want."

"And Troy's going." Sharpay stated the obvious in the otherwise carefully calculated decision.

"When we were sixteen, Troy and I had this dream," Gabriella started. For a moment Sharpay thought she was avoiding the topic but she let her sister continue. "We were in the treehouse one day and Troy's dad had been on him again about his grades and school. I had just come from a scholastic decathlon strategy meeting for the semi-finals and we were both so sick of school that we came up with a plan of what we would do after high school if we didn't go to university. If we could do anything after graduation, what would it be?"

"We were going to move to California and live on the beach. We would get jobs that let us bartend at night so we could surf during the day. We would save our money and learn to live away from home, and when we were ready, we'd go to school and study what we wanted and not what our parents or guidance councillors expected us to. Troy would have flings with supermodels and I would work on my breakout runway clothing collection. We put everything into it while we lay on the floor of the treehouse." Gabriella was still smiling when she returned to the present and looked at Sharpay. "When things got bad last year, after you and Troy got together and I was so angry and confused, I let the dream go. I told myself that we weren't children anymore and it was irresponsible to think that we could go spend a year hanging out on the beach and doing nothing."

"But you applied to Cal State anyway," Sharpay pointed out.

"I did. When Dad suggested visiting west coast schools, I agreed because of Stanford. Mom and Dad were Alumni and it has great programs. Mostly, I liked the idea of starting early. If I got into the early honours program, I would leave school in May. One less month of dealing with you and Troy and the mess that I had left behind. Stanford wasn't a childish choice or one that supported lazing around beaches and surfers. It was responsible." Gabriella shuddered with the memory. "But then we got there and I hated it. It felt so stiff and rigid and pretentious. The students were brilliant but so focused that the mere question of athletics and fun seemed to make some of them nauseous. I just didn't feel like it fit me. It felt forced."

"And then you saw Cal State."

"I applied in September when we started school. It wasn't official, but I sent them my grades and profile and asked what they could offer me. Afterwards, Chad told me Troy had done the same thing. It was the first time I thought maybe some things could be fixed. Maybe if we were both out west, we could learn to be friends again. The letter that you saw from Cal State was their unofficial preliminary offer. It's still not concrete, but it's the only school I'm interested in." Gabriella watched Sharpay as she tried to process everything.

"And Troy?" Sharpay asked finally.

"Troy will make his own decision. I'm sure we share a lot of the same factors, but in the end he knows we're not kids anymore. Our daydreams have been rearranged." The movie on the television was over, the credits silently rolling by the screen as Gabriella waited for Sharpay to say something.

"I never cared about where I went to school. It didn't seem to matter. Daddy could pay for wherever I decided to go and I didn't know what I wanted to do so I wasn't confined by program selection. I just didn't want to be alone. I met all of my friends through drama or you and Ryan. The idea of being alone was scary and unknown," Sharpay shrugged her shoulders. "But that day that I got the letter from Juilliard, I knew what everyone else has been talking about. I want it so much."

"I'm glad," Gabriella told her.

"I get it now, what you and Ryan and Troy have been trying to say to me about picking my own place. Ryan and I both want the same school, but for ourselves, not because of one another. That makes a difference." The rec room was quiet.

"I'm really happy for you, Pay. I hope you get it," Gabriella told her.

"Me too."

On the TV, the opening credits for a new movie were playing and the two sisters settled back to watch.

* * *

Ryan found Sharpay in the kitchen long after the supper dishes had been stripped from the table and the adults had retired to the formal living room with a bottle of wine and quiet talk. The kitchen was dark and Ryan would have walked by completely if not for the glint of Sharpay's bracelet. Her shoulder rested against the wall, her body angled to look out the glass-paned patio doors to the landscaped yard beyond. The outside porch lights were on, as well as the tiny lights that lined the paths through the garden beds.

"Hey, are there any of those coconut cookies left?" Ryan asked with a smile.

"On the table," Sharpay replied. She looked away from the patio for a moment to watch her brother grab two cookies, shoving one in his mouth so he could use his free hand to get a glass of milk.

"What are you doing?" he approached her place by the doors and looked over her shoulder.

"Troy's here. His truck is by the curb." Sharpay pointed absently past the patio to the illuminated cul-de-sac where the white truck rested in front of the neighbour's house.

"I don't see them out there." Ryan craned his head and used a finger to part the sheer curtains that blocked his view. "Are you spying on them?"

"What? No!" Sharpay hissed. "I was in here getting a drink and I noticed that the lights to the patio got brighter. Then I saw the truck pull up." She glared at Ryan for suggesting it.

"I didn't hear the door," Ryan noted, turning away from the view and getting another cookie.

"He climbed the balcony." Sharpay sounded distant and sad. Ryan shot her a sympathizing glance before focusing on his glass of milk. "I'm not spying. I just happened to see him do it, and then I started thinking".

"What were you thinking about?" Ryan asked, his head glancing towards the patio as the lights dimmed once again. Gabriella must have turned them off once Troy was on the grass. Sharpay parted the curtains and Ryan could hear the sound of an unturned motor being turned over.

"I just keep thinking that these next few months should be for making up lost time, lost memories. They should be for fixing the last few months and getting things right." Sharpay took a breath and then turned away from the patio and walked towards the hallway, Ryan following her. "Instead, I feel like everything that's coming will be a 'last'. It's not enough time to fix things and some things will never be fixed."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't try," Ryan told her.

Sharpay didn't respond but headed up the stairs to her room. Inside, she changed into her sweatpants and a tank top, pulled her hair into a pony tail and placed her earrings in her jewellery box. Pulling the covers off her bed, she dug around in her backpack until she found her English novel. She was just about to shut the door and curl up to read when Gabriella called her name, bounding down the stairs from the third floor. She had her laptop in her hands.

"I just got an email from Ms. Darbus. We need to finalise the costume order list for the musical. Do you have time to do it now?" Gabriella raised her eyes from the screen to lock with Sharpay's. "If you're busy, or tired, we can do it tomorrow."

"No, it's fine," Sharpay replied, shaking her head. She tried to ignore the traces of cologne that lingered on the air and assaulted her memory. "I can do it now."

Gabriella entered her sister's room, reading things off the screen as Sharpay turned on a light and shut the door. Cocooned in the privacy, they tried to find a middle ground between the glitz and the reality, the cost and the stage.


	29. Epilogue

Between You & Me

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Epilogue**

* * *

It was a ritual. A routine. Like the flow of the tides, it was rhythmic and soothing. Natural, expected, fluid. The day would start with the whistle blasts from the pier, signalling the lifeguards to duty and the boat operators to their marinas for passengers looking for a scenic tour. No alarm clock was needed to wake the seven inhabitants of the house built just off the board walk. They woke as the sun rose. Their bodies had become tuned to the sounds of the pier after months of living on the beach, and they move through the house with movements as quiet and fluid as the tides that lay just yards from their back door.

The tiny blonde from Houston, Texas will be the first one in the shower on the second floor. She will also be the last one out. By the time she joins the two dark-haired brothers from Wisconsin in the kitchen, they would both be shovelling eggs and toast in their mouths in preparation for a day of heavy construction duties ten miles away. The other blonde, with her hair cut short and fitting her head like a snug hat, would have skipped the shower and headed to the beach. She will be there until noon, surfing in the morning and attending classes across town until supper time. There will be chatter and quiet laughter shared. Teasing will float through the lower level and up the steps to the second story. The darkly tanned boy from Columbia, his accent already fading and new words and catch phrases already encroaching on his perfectly enunciated English, will be doing push ups on his bedroom floor with the door wide open.

Down the hall, nestled in the corner of the upper level of the house, the boy and girl from Albuquerque are entangled in the sheets of the queen sized bed. Her, with her long pitch black locks and flawless olive skin. He, with his hair streaked blond from the sun and his eyes a piercing blue that are like pools of trapped ocean water. His arm encircles her waist, the pink tank top baring her taunt stomach with its studded belly button. One of her hands is in her hair, the other is ensnared by his long, calloused fingers. On the floor lies their bartending t-shirts and aprons from the bar located on the pier at the end of the beach. It's only been hours since their shift ended.

They wake with the whistles and take turns in the shower downstairs. She gets dressed and comb through her wet hair while he chops fruit and puts bread in the toaster. She will gather their books and homework from the night before and join him downstairs. Kisses will be exchanged as the shower hums above them and down the hall, their roommates' footsteps treading softly throughout the house. They close the door behind them when they leave. They go to the beach each morning before school, this couple from New Mexico. It is a ritual after months on the west coast.

If someone had asked Gabriella at the age of eight who she wanted to fall in love with, she would have told them a mixture of things. He would be smart and funny and have hair like the boy bands on television. He would be able to play sports with her and climb a tree. He would think she was pretty. At the age of fourteen, Gabriella would tell them that she wanted her future love to be like Troy. Not to be Troy, but to possess all of the qualities found in her best friend. She would tell you the same thing when she turned seventeen, but inside she would be thinking differently. Now nineteen, no one needs to ask who she wants to fall in love with. She is in love with Troy Bolton.

High school was over, and with it came freedom. The Montez-Evans family had pulled through Christmas with a loud and overflowing house. Gifts were exchanged and dinner was consumed. Troy made it back from his grandparents' in time for New Years Eve. He and Gabriella rang in the New Year quietly from her balcony. Sharpay and Ryan went to Taylor's. The winter term passed quickly. Filled with musical and basketball championships, school council meetings and guidance councillor sit-downs, and final decisions on anything from prom decorations to colleges, Gabriella hardly had time to process the passing of one month to the next.

Prom was a second chance. There was no drama like Homecoming. Albuquerque had not elected a prom queen in four years after two senior cheerleader sought to kill each other over a tie. Gabriella wore red and Sharpay wore white. Troy escorted Gabriella and Zeke escorted Sharpay. They shared a limo with Ryan and Kelsi to East High. Smiles were tense but intentions were true and honest. Prom blended into graduation and there was a framed photograph of Sharpay, Gabriella, Troy, Chad and Ryan on the coffee table in the house on the beach. Troy had been valedictorian. Gabriella and Troy went to Cal State. Sharpay and Ryan went to Juilliard.

After homecoming, Gabriella's final year of high school had been so normal that she could sometimes trick herself into forgetting what was between her and her sister. There were still moments where Gabriella felt a gnawing pit of guilt in her stomach that made her want to vomit. When Sharpay had to wait for weeks until being told she had a spot at Juilliard. In July, when she began cleaning her room, she showed up at Gabriella's door with a box filled with things that were Troy's and had been lost or left behind in her room. November of their freshmen year away at university when a third year pianist stood Sharpay up on her first date since Troy. There were times when there was no reason. Just some times that Gabriella felt the distance between them that went beyond the miles separating them at school.

That first year had gotten better. They adjusted. They found their niches. New friends were made and new interests were discovered. Gabriella found law. Sharpay discovered a flair for directing. Ryan moved from dance to vocals to piano and back to dance. He went from Kelsi to Chelsea to Diana to Jessica and then back to Kelsi. The basketball world discovered Troy and then a knee injury had him discovering physiotherapy and medicine.

They moved into the beach house the summer after their second year. It was off campus, but close enough that it didn't matter. It had privacy and a great view. It had quiet and endearing roommates. It held the promise of a dream created long ago in a treehouse far away. Each morning Gabriella wakes up with Troy, and each night they fall asleep beside each other. She will brush his hair from his forehead and try to remember what it looked like before the sun attacked it. He will trace her scars with his fingertips.

And every morning they go to the beach. Every morning they stand in the shadow of the pier and they laugh and smile. They kiss. Sometimes, Gabriella hesitates. When there is a flash of her sister in her mind, it takes her breath for a moment. She and Troy make wishes and keep promises.

Like the oceans, there would always be space between them. A stretch of memories that would taint the romance and perfection of how they came to be; questions of how things could have been different. They would remain unanswered. Sometimes, she would ask him. Sometimes he would answer. It would be an unsatisfactory explanation. He didn't know the answers either. Never did. He just knew they had each other, and she just knew they had a promise to keep.

After leaving a trail of broken promises in their wake, that promise was all that mattered.

* * *

AN: Alors, c'est fini. Thanks for all your support over the last few years. I have 2 oneshot projects to finish for Mlle Diana and then I will finish From Blood. I would like to thank Kelly and Abigail for being amazing betas and idea-bouncer-offers. And to anyone who at anytime gave me an idea who fixed my grammar or sent me a message that kicked me in the butt, you all deserve a thanks too. ~Van


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